


Podiums and Pedestals

by Songbirdsara



Series: Kingdom of Ice [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Future Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2019-06-01 15:24:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 60,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15146075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Songbirdsara/pseuds/Songbirdsara
Summary: Nearly two years after parting ways, Katsuki Yuuri and Victor Nikiforov find themselves rediscovering the paths of Life and Love. Their friends and family are (mostly) thrilled. Powerful players behind the scenes aren't quite as happy.With the Beijing Olympics and Yuuri's retirement looming, the pressure on the pair has never been higher. Can they find a way to balance their professional and romantic lives?****A direct sequel to 'Once and Future Kings'.





	1. January 2021 P.1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I'm so happy to be diving back into this story line! If you are joining me for the first time, welcome! You may want to skim through the previous works in this series, but if you'd rather dive on in, here are the relevant plot points:
> 
> *Victor's career ending injury causes an angry spiral of guilt trips and accusations that cause Yuuri to flee back to Detroit  
> *Yuuri continues his gold medal streak and Victor eventually takes over as head coach of the St. Petersburg Skate Club  
> *Both men are successful but desperately lonely, causing their friends to intervene  
> *Yuuri and Victor slowly grow closer over the 2020 Grand Prix Series, resulting in Yuuri returning to St. Petersburg to declare his love
> 
> And now... 2021 has dawned, bringing its own challenges to our darling duo.

**January 4th, 2021 – St. Petersburg**

Yuuri was biting his lip as he stared up at the entrance to the St. Petersburg Skate Club. So much had happened since the last time he walked through these doors that the once-familiar rink now felt alien and forbidding. A warm hand on his shoulder startled him out of his reverie and he glanced up to find Victor looking down at him in concern.

 

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to come in. You can take the car if you’d rather just go home…”

 

Yuuri shook his head. “No. Dr. Petrova thought this was a good idea.” Victor had invited him to his appointment that morning and the therapist had seemed pleased to have both spouses at the session. She had suggested re-establishing routines as a couple, and skate practice was certainly part of both their routines. If he was going to move back to St. Petersburg permanently, he  _ had _ to be comfortable at the rink. After all, he wasn’t ready to retire quite yet.

 

Flashing a determined grin at his husband, Yuuri gestured towards the entrance. “Lead the way, Vitya. It’s your Club!” Victor returned the smile, then strode through the doors. No one seemed to pay much attention to them as they made their way towards the main rink.

 

“I was thinking you could help Georgi with the Juniors for a bit? After main practice ends, there’s a couple hours of ice time available, you could do your own practice then, if that’s okay?”

 

Hearing the nerves buzzing beneath Victor’s words, Yuuri looked up from where he was lacing his skates. “Are you worried about trouble with the FFKK over my presence at the Club?”

 

Victor shook his head. “I double checked the rules. They can’t ban you from skating here as long as you pay the rink fees. And they can’t  _ possibly _ object to the top ranked Men’s skater assisting the Junior skaters.”

 

“But…?”

 

The Russian coach sighed. “But they  _ might _ kick up a fuss if they think that your presence interferes with the Senior skaters’ performances. Especially with the Beijing Olympics coming up.”

 

Yuuri raised a skeptical eyebrow. “They don’t want you coaching me,” he stated flatly. Victor shrugged, wincing slightly. Before he could respond, a familiar voice barked out a greeting.

 

“Oi, Victor! You’re fucking late again!”

 

“Language, Yura!” Victor sang out cheerfully, turning as the blond skated up to the side of the rink. “You know I have therapy on Monday mornings! Besides, I brought a special guest!”

 

Yuri barely managed to catch himself before slamming into the rink wall. Behind him, Alexei trailed like an eager puppy.

 

“OHMYGOSH! YUURI! You’re HERE!!” The teenager’s enthusiasm drew an embarrassed blush to Yuuri’s cheeks.

 

“Oh. Ah. Hi Alexei. Um, hi Yuri…” The Japanese skater stood up, running a nervous hand through the hair at the nape of his neck. Yuri glared at the couple, his emerald eyes narrowing as he glanced between their right hands, clearly noticing the reappearance of their wedding bands.

 

“We are going to  _ talk _ Katsudon. Soon.” With a huff, the young Russian skated away from the boards, blond hair swirling. Alexei watched him go before returning his wide-eyed gaze to the older pair.

 

“Oh dear,” Yuuri murmured. “I don’t think Yurio’s very happy with me right now.”

 

“Ah. You get used to it! Yura hasn’t been happy with me in… well,  _ ever! _ ” Victor quipped. Yuuri rolled his eyes as he leaned on the taller man’s shoulder to pull off his guards. Pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s cheek and waving a shy hand in Alexei’s direction, the Japanese Ace skated towards the end of the rink where Georgi was currently running a group of pre-teens through their paces.

 

“Coach? Is Yuuri back for good?” Alexei’s voice startled Victor, and he realized he’d been watching his lover’s retreating form with perhaps a  _ bit _ more enthusiasm than his young charge needed to witness. Guiltily, he returned his attention to the teen.

 

“Ah, Alyosha… that’s complicated. He’s just visiting for now, but it’s a nice surprise, no?” The Russian coach winked broadly at the boy. “Now, come, let’s get on with practice before Yura decides to kill me with his knife boots!” Alexei giggled as they moved towards the bristling blond skater. If all three pairs of eyes were turned a little too frequently towards the Juniors’ class, none of them saw fit to bring it up. 

 

**Late afternoon, St. Petersburg**

 

Russia’s Ice Tiger prowled through the hallway, eyes narrowed at the door to the men’s locker room. He’d seen his quarry enter the room a few minutes ago, and he’d be damned if he allowed the other man to escape. A flash of red caught his attention and he was unsurprised when he felt a slender body leaning familiarly against him.

 

“What do you want, Baba?”

 

“Don’t snarl at me kitten, I’m not the reason you’re so pissy. I heard the uproar as soon as I finished with Lilia.” He rolled his eyes at her overly cheerful tone. “Awww, come on Yura. I thought you  _ wanted _ them back together? Wasn’t that half the ISU’s goal last year?”  

 

“Tcha. I wanted them to  _ make up, _ so they’d stop acting like lovesick  _ morons. _ I didn’t think Katsudon would just… let it all go so quickly.”

 

“How do you know he has? They’ve been talking again for a while, I’m sure they’re still working through things…”

 

“They’re wearing their  _ rings, _ Mila. And he’s here, skating, at the Club.”

 

Mila paused to stare thoughtfully at the tall, young Russian. “You’re worried Katsuki’s going to get hurt again.” Yuri glowered, declining to meet her eyes. She refused to drop her gaze, patiently waiting for her friend to respond.

 

“I’m… that’s not…  _ entirely _ … that is…”

 

Mila’s delighted giggle filled the hallway. “Oh. My. God. Yuri Plisetsky, you’re worried about  _ both  _ of them. You big ol’ softie!”

 

Yuri growled under his breath. Seriously. Friendships were an enormous fucking mistake. “Jesus, Baba, I don’t fucking care what they do. I just have a  _ career _ to worry about. So do you. If they blow this, what’s the fallout this time? Hmmm?”

 

The door to the men’s locker room finally swung open and Yuuri appeared, glancing behind him as he bid farewell to an unseen athlete. Mila softened her tone to avoid being overheard by the Japanese skater. “I don’t know the answer to that Yura. But I think you need to decide if you want your friends back together in St. Petersburg, or if you want to continue to have a very lonely Coach and competitor.”

 

Yuuri noticed them before the blond skater had a chance to respond. “Oh. Mila, Yuri, hi!” He glanced nervously between the younger skaters, obviously trying to decide if they were waiting for him or if their presence was a coincidence. Mila nudged the tall blond with an ungentle elbow, drawing a fierce glare.

 

“Oi, Katsudon. We’re getting coffee. You’re coming with us.”

 

Mila stifled a laugh at Yuri’s graceless invitation. Yuuri offered a half-smile, clearly unsurprised.

 

“Of course.”

 

***

 

The trio of athletes sat around a small table in the skaters’ lounge, nursing their drinks. Yuuri leaned back with his tea, waiting patiently for the interrogation that he knew was coming. Sure enough, after a few moments of silence, Yuri’s gruff voice rang out.

 

“Are you moving back? Back in with the Old Man?”

 

Yuuri sighed. “It’s… complicated.”

 

“What the hell is complicated about it? Either you are or you aren't. You two are wearing your rings again, you’re here in St. Petersburg…”

 

“I’m only here until the end of the week, Yurio. At least for now.”

 

“The hell with that, why the fuck can’t you just stay?”

 

“Ah. And how will, say… Chairwoman Rubina feel about me being here?”

 

“Fuck.”

 

Yuuri nodded sagely. “Exactly.  _ Fuck. _ ”

 

Mila chimed in, her cheerful voice slightly subdued. “Yuuri, if you’re going back to Detroit… are you two…  _ not _ together then?”

 

Yuuri shook his head fervently. “No, we’re definitely back together. Location won’t change that. But we’re going to wait until after I graduate in April to make any moves. Give the FFKK time to warm to the idea.”

 

“They won’t let Victor coach you,” Yuri muttered flatly.

 

Yuuri nodded sadly. “No. I have a feeling that ship has long-since sailed. That doesn’t mean I can’t live here, can’t  _ train  _ here.”

 

Mila raised a delicate brow. “You have an idea.”

 

“Mmmm, yes. But I need a bit of time to figure things out with Celestino, time to take care of everything back in Detroit...”

 

The older pair were startled by the sudden scraping of a chair against tile as Yuri abruptly stood. “Great, you have everything handled then. Good. I’m glad. Just… don’t fucking expect me to help you again if things don’t work out.” Tossing his long, blond hair over his shoulder, the young skater stormed off.

 

The red-head placed a sympathetic hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “Give him time. He’s happy for you, in his own way. He just doesn’t handle change very well.”

 

The Japanese skater bit his lip but nodded reluctantly as he watched his young friend’s retreating form.

 

“I… I think that I was so buried under my own pain, that I forgot that others were invested in our relationship. I forgot that others might get hurt in the crossfire. I wasn’t very fair to him, Mila. He was only 19 and I put  _ so much _ on his shoulders.” He offered a small smile to the young woman sitting next to him. “I’m sure it hasn’t been easy for any of you here, really. We’ll make it up to him. We’ll make it up to all of you.”

 

**January 8** **th** **, 2021 – St. Petersburg**

 

“Do you need anything for the flight? Snacks? Ear plugs? A pillow?? Yuuri, did you bring a good pillow? You always have trouble sleeping on long flights…” Even in his own ears, Victor knew his tone was trending towards an unbearably whiny range. He couldn’t  _ really  _ be blamed though, the past week had been a blissful taste of happiness and he was deeply reluctant to let his husband out of his sight again, even for a few minutes.

 

Unfortunately, this separation would last far longer than a few minutes.

 

Worlds. March seemed like an eternity to wait before seeing Yuuri. And it would be another month until his husband graduated and could leave Detroit…

 

No. Victor did  _ not _ want Yuuri to walk through that security gate.

 

“Vitya, this isn’t my first overseas flight, you know. I’m fine! I have everything I need for the trip!” Yuuri was clearly unsympathetic to Victor’s current emotional crisis. The silver-blond Russian resisted the urge to pout, settling instead on tightening the scarf around his lover’s neck.

 

“Don’t forget to keep in contact with Dr. Petrova.”

 

“I won’t.”

 

“And text me as soon as you land, please?”

 

“I will, love.”

 

“And, and Skype. Don’t forget, we’re going to Skype at least twice a week…”

 

Yuuri gripped Victor’s frantically flailing hands. “Vitya. I know. Sweetheart, it’s only a few months. We can get through this, okay? I’ll be here again before you know it.”

 

The taller man sighed. “I’m sorry, dorogoy. I don’t mean to fuss. I love you, Yuuri. I’m going to miss you.”

 

Yuuri moved onto his toes, leaning up to press a kiss into the slim lips. “I love you too, Victor Nikiforov. I’ll be home again soon.”

 

 

**January 11** **th** **, 2021 – Detroit**

 

Phichit stretched out on the couch, hamster-free for once, as he thumbed through his Instagram notifications. He could hear his roommate shuffling around in the bathroom, cleaning up after a long day of practice. Celestino had worked Yuuri hard that day, no doubt checking to see if his unplanned detour to Russia after Japanese Nationals had harmed his programs. To Phichit’s eyes, Yuuri’s skating had been more relaxed than usual, especially considering the jet lag he had to be dealing with. He paused his browsing, lingering on an upload from Victor. Narrowing his eyes at the image of Yuuri in St. Petersburg, he privately concluded that the trip had been good for his friend.

 

The Thai skater was startled out of his reflections by the ‘plop’ of a folder dropping into his lap. Glancing around wildly, he spotted his roommate smirking as he leaned over the back of the couch.

 

“Jeez,” he whined. “Warn a guy! I thought you were still in the bathroom!” Yuuri’s smirk flashed into a genuine smile.

 

“Sorry Peach,” he laughed, eyes dancing.

 

“Something tells me you aren’t sorry at  _ all _ ,” Phichit harrumphed. Sitting up, he brushed his hand over the folder, glancing curiously at his friend. “Soooo… what’s this?” Yuuri merely raised his eyebrows, prompting Phichit to flip it open. The sheaf of papers inside soon proved to be their lease. The younger man quickly paged through to the end, where Yuuri’s signature was scrawled next to the lease-break agreement.

 

Without speaking, Phichit stood, rapidly stepping around the couch and dragging his friend into a firm embrace. Without hesitation, Yuuri returned the hug. Eyes bright, the Thai skater pulled back, searching his friend’s face.

 

Yuuri smiled shyly down at him. “I… may have decided to take your advice. I hope three months is enough notice?”

 

Phichit's incandescent grin was answer enough. 

  
  
  
  



	2. January 2021 P.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The European Championships have arrived! Our boys begin to deal with their hectic international schedules.

**January 21st, 2021 – St. Petersburg**

 

“We will begin loading the bus at 6:00 a.m. _sharp_ tomorrow, so if you’d _like_ to compete in the European Championships, I’d suggest arriving by 5:45! Last one on the bus has to sit with Yuri!”

 

“Oi! Jackass, just because you’re the coach…”

 

“Language, Yura!”

 

The Junior skaters giggled nervously at the exchange, while the veteran Seniors grinned. Relations between the Coach and the Club’s top male skater were back to the old normal, as strange as that “normal” might be. Victor merely grinned at his skaters before returning to his spiel.

 

“Alright, if anyone has any last minute medical info, please see Georgi on your way out. Otherwise, you are dismissed! Get some _sleep_ people, we have a competition to dominate this weekend!”

 

The chattering crowd dispersed, flowing past the Head Coach with an assortment of cheerful (or, in one case, surly) farewells. As the skaters exited, a familiar shout filled the Club.

 

**_“Vitya!”_ **

 

Mila paused on her way through the door. “Oh! Coach Yakov! It’s good to see you!”

 

The elderly ex-coach brushed past her with a surly greeting before rounding on his protégé. “Vitya! In my office! NOW!”

 

“Ah! Yakov! Hello! I believe you mean _my_ office?”

 

**_“Viiityaaa!”_ **

 

***

Russia’s preeminent figure skating coach stood before his mentor like a nervous child. True, the desk from which Yakov Feltsman currently glared at him was _technically_ his, but…

 

“Where do you hide your vodka?”

 

“Ahhhhhh?”

 

“Vodka, Vitya. I know you have some in here, I always did. Pour it out.”

 

Laughing under his breath, Victor opened a file cabinet and retrieved a pair of glasses and a bottle. Pouring a healthy dose for Yakov and a milder one for himself, the younger man raised his eyebrows, offering his former coach a chance to pronounce the toast. Huffing out an exasperated breath, the elder finally raised his glass, waiting for Victor to follow suit.

 

“To talented idiots who cannot seem to toe the line,” Yakov grimly pronounced, clinking his glass against Victor’s. The silver-blond raised an expressive eyebrow but swallowed the liquor down without a complaint.  

 

“Yaaakov,” came the sing-song voice. “Why are you here? Surely you didn’t come just to steal my vodka and make passive-aggressive toasts?” The former head-coach merely glared at Victor’s attempt at humor.

 

“Victor. What is it you think you are doing? This thing with Katsuki. We’ve been down this path before. These fancies of yours always get you into trouble!” The young Coach bristled at the words, glaring at his mentor even as he poured another round of shots.

 

“Yes. We have. And we’ve had this conversation before, Yakov. Yuuri is my husband. He’s not a phase. He’s not a whim. He’s not a _mistake_.”

 

“No? The last couple of years would seem to indicate otherwise.”

 

***SLAM***

 

Yakov jumped at the sound of Victor slamming the bottle of vodka back onto the desk. The younger man clenched his fingers tightly, curling them around the edge of the desk in an attempt to anchor his rage. He raised smoldering blue eyes to meet Yakov’s, and the older man spared a moment to idly wonder how he had ever thought those pale depths to be icy. No. Right now they _burned._

 

“Tell me something, Yakov,” came the perilously soft voice. “If you had a chance to change your past, would you have made the same sacrifices?”

 

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” Yakov blustered.

 

“Hmmmm, I wonder,” Victor mused. His eyes flashed again, piercing in their rage, before he continued in a dangerous purr. “Say, Yakov. Would you say that Lilia was a _fancy_?”

 

A low growl hummed through the small office space. “Watch that tongue, boy,” Yakov snarled. Victor merely stared coolly at the older man, allowing the tension to stretch between them. The older man was the first to glance away with a grimace.

 

“Prosti menya, Vitya. I was out of line. I’m just… Victor, I’m just concerned.”

 

The slender Coach thawed a bit, raising his neglected glass in a silent, conciliatory toast. “I shouldn’t have dragged Lilia into this, that was uncalled for.” Yakov waved a pardoning hand.

 

“No. Your point was clear. That boy means more to you than skating. I knew that years ago. But… Vitya. I worry for you. The FFKK will not care that you have love in your life. They will care about results in your career. They may ask you to choose between love and success.”

 

Victor shoved a refilled glass into his mentor’s hand, raising his own once again, eyes blazing. “Well then. I suppose I’ll just have to show them that I can have both.”

 

The retired Head Coach sighed, shaking his head ruefully. “Victor, be careful. If Yuuri Katsuki returns to St. Petersburg permanently, the fallout will affect more than just your own life.” The younger man smirked, evidence of his intended defiance clearly written in every feature.

 

Yakov reached for the bottle, dread and pride warring for dominance in his gut. Whoever had told him retirement would be peaceful had clearly never met Victor Nikiforov. He poured one last measure into each of their glasses, catching the blue eyes and holding their gaze. The young coach straightened, sensing a change in Yakov’s mood as he raised his glass.

 

“Do not let them take your joy, Vitya,” he whispered fiercely, glancing behind him for eavesdroppers. “Hold onto love, my boy. I could not bear to see you brought so low again.” Those bright blue eyes watered fiercely as the young man nodded in agreement.

 

In companionable silence, the two men drank.

 

 **January 26** **th** **, 2021, Graz, Austria**

 

A sharp nudge against his shin pulled Yuri out of his dazed slump on the couch of the hotel lobby. Pulling his headphones off, he glared at the culprit. “Beka,” he began flatly, “You’re late and your shoe is fucking pointy. Who wears pointy fucking shoes anymore?” Otabek, quiet as ever, quirked a tiny smirk before jutting his chin in the direction of the doors. The tall blond rolled his eyes but stood. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before Victor catches us and tries to tag along.”

 

The pair moved purposely towards the exit, pausing only briefly to return Mila’s wave from across the lobby. The redhead was chatting with Sara Crispino and Emil Nekola, the Italian woman’s erratic twin throwing suspicious glares at the Czech man. Clueless as ever, then. Yuri hurried out the door, eager to avoid being embroiled in any awkward drama. Katsudon and the Old Man were enough drama, thank you _very_ much.

 

As they exited into the chill night air, Otabek threw a restraining arm against Yuri’s chest. “Wha…” the young skater began to snap, pausing when his friend narrowed his eyes and threw a finger against his lips in warning. Glancing around, he spotted his young rink mate, Alexei, standing next to the door, pressed up against the wall.

 

Then he spotted Alexei’s companion.

 

His temper frayed as he watched Chairwoman Rubina hovering over the nervous teen. What the fuck? Harassing Victor was one thing, the idiot was technically an adult. Alexei on the other hand… no matter that he had placed in the top six during his short program. Rubina had no business cornering the kid.

 

“Oi, Alexei!” Yuri found himself shouting. Both Alexei and Rubina snapped their heads in his direction in surprise. To be honest, Yuri was a little surprised at his outburst as well. Running with his instincts, he continued. “Let’s go! We’ve been looking for you!”

 

The boy perked up, glancing awkwardly at the middle-aged woman leaning over him. “Oh! Right! For… our thing!” Yuri forced himself to avoid rolling his eyes at the boy’s ham-handed acting job.

 

“Right,” he grated. “Our thing. Which we totally invited you to join us for. C’mon!”

 

The teen dashed out from under Rubina’s arm, eagerly joining the older pair. Rubina narrowed her eyes but allowed the trio to pass without comment. Yuri’s eyes stayed on her as they walked away, wondering why, exactly, the chairwoman of the Coach’s Council was bothering the youngest member of the Russian Senior skate division.

 

 **Evening, January 30** **th** **, 2021, Graz, Austria**

 

Half dressed, Victor flopped back onto the duvet cover of the bed in his suite. While Sara Crispino had, as she’d promised, pulled ahead of Mila to take gold, he honestly couldn’t have asked for better performances from his skaters. Yuri had, unsurprisingly, taken first but Alexei had surpassed everyone’s expectations, pulling bronze behind Altin. Sure, Michele Crispino had taken a bad tumble and Emil Nekola had been typically inconsistent, but still! Bronze! Surely nobody could claim Victor’s coaching had suffered following a performance like that!

 

A sudden knock at his door startled the Russian, pulling him out of his elated reverie. Glancing at the time, he shrugged before making his way across the room. Pulling open the door, he was surprised by a pair of smiling hotel attendants. The first handing him a bouquet of blue and white flowers while the second busied himself with setting an ice bucket, champagne and a pair of glasses on the table inside the door. As they excused themselves with a slight bow, Victor automatically reached for the card tucked into the bucket.

 

Smiling, he reached for his phone.

 

 **Early Afternoon, January 30** **th** **, 2021, Detroit**

 

“Yuuri! PHONE!” Phichit’s excited yip floated across the rink, causing Yuuri to send an apologetic grin Natalie’s way. The assistant coach laughed, flapping a forgiving hand in his direction as he sprinted over the ice towards his best friend. He snagged the ringing cell from the younger man’s hand, answering the call breathlessly.

 

“Yuuuuri,” came the familiar croon. Happiness and a tinge of desire pooled in his belly as he smiled.

 

“Vitya,” he murmured lowly. “Don’t you have a banquet to get to soon? I hear the St. Petersburg Club has some celebrating to do!”

 

“Don’t tease, darling. You sent me flowers! And who am I going to drink all of this champagne with? Gods, I wish you were here!”

 

Yuuri grinned, pleased that his surprise had arrived. “Hmmm, I wish I was there too, love. You’ll just have to think of me instead.” He glanced at the large clock on the rink wall, checking the time before continuing. “But I won’t leave you without company to enjoy. Say hello to Chris for me!” As if on cue, he could hear the sound of knocking from the other end of the line, followed by the Swiss commentator’s cheerful greeting.

 

“Congratulations love, enjoy your champagne!” Yuuri smiled as Victor crooned a loving farewell, the joyful expression fading as he ended the call and passed the phone back to Phichit. The Thai skater glanced at him, one dark eyebrow raised in query.

 

“Regretting your decision not to go?” He asked, running a soothing hand up his rinkmate’s arm. Yuuri shook his head.

 

“No, I know I needed to get the practice in before Four Continents, it’s just…” He sighed. “I know it wasn’t a long visit, but I got used to seeing him, being with him. I somehow managed to forget how addictive the man can be.”

 

Phichit whistled lowly, laughing as Yuuri blushed. “Damn, boi. You have got it baaaad.” The Japanese man grinned wryly, rustling an embarrassed hand through the long hair at the nape of his neck.

 

“Mmmm, well, I blame you, y’know!” The younger man grinned broadly at the retort, enjoying the teasing banter. Yuuri sobered suddenly, cinnamon eyes flashing as they peered up into Phichit’s face. “I never said it but… thank you. I know I was… difficult. And I don’t agree with everything you did, but… I don’t know if we’d have gotten back to this without you. So… I owe you one, Peach.”

 

Slim, dark arms latched around the older skater, pulling him into a fierce hug. “It’s about time you realized how loved you are, Katsuki Yuuri. I’ll always be around to make sure you don’t forget that again!”

  
  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to use Yakov more in Once and Future Kings, but could never really fit him in. Expect him to appear more in P&P! 
> 
> Anime Expo was a delight! I got to meet my favorite YoI fanartist (Gearous... *swoon*) and got to meet a Once and Future Kings reader (THANK YOU for stopping by Lupe!!!!) 
> 
> This fic is being Beta'ed by the delightful Magrathea, who catches my continuity errors before I can publish them! Thank you Mags!


	3. February 2021, P1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri competes at the Four Continents Championships.
> 
> Victor is still extra.
> 
> But it's not all sunshine and rainbows yet.

**February 2** **nd** **, 2021, Detroit**

 

Yuuri fidgeted nervously as he sat in the uncomfortable plastic chair in Celestino’s office, watching as his coach paged through their contract at a snail’s pace. Finally, with a barely detectable sigh, the burly Italian closed the folder and steepled his hands over the desk.

 

“Technically, our contract ends in mid-June,” the older man began, peering intently at his young charge. Yuuri nodded but made no other response. “You’re considered a favorite for the podium at both Four Continents and Worlds. These last two seasons have been incredibly successful for you, Yuuri. You have much to be proud of, dear boy.”

 

At this, the Japanese skater quirked a tiny smile. “Thank you, Coach Cialdini. You’ve done so much for me over the years… I can’t ever begin to thank you enough. I’ll do my best the rest of this season, you can count on me.”

 

Celestino jutted out his impressive chin, a keen glint in his pale green eyes. “I know you’re finishing your Master’s, Yuuri. You’re 29 now, I’m sure retirement and your future are weighing on your mind, but… the JSF is going to want you to hold out until after Beijing. You haven’t had any major injuries, you’re still at the top of your game… Yuuri, even if you don’t skate with me, you can and should continue to compete.”

 

The chocolate eyes snapped up in surprise, meeting his coach’s knowing grin. A rueful smile began to creep across Yuuri’s face. He should have expected that Celestino would be able to see through his flimsy request for a contract review.  

 

“Celestino…” he began tentatively. “I’m… I’m not here to end our contract. I want to renew, but I’d like to move to one season at a time, instead of two.”

 

The boisterous coach leaned back, clearly surprised. “Ah, Yuuri. I’m, well, I’m happy to hear that, but… I’ll be honest. I’m surprised. Phichit let it slip that he was hunting for a roommate. Between that and Nikiforov’s visit before the Finals, I had assumed that you were returning to St. Petersburg!”

 

Yuuri blushed, embarrassed at his apparent transparency. “Oh, ah… I am? I mean, I’m planning to? After graduation?”

 

“Yuuri, are you asking me or telling me?”

 

“Ahhhh, well, telling you? But… also asking? Because… Celestino, I’m not looking to change coaches. We’ve done well together, but I… Victor… we… ” He trailed off, unsure how to voice the thoughts swirling in his mind.

 

“Hmmmmm. I believe I know the problem. I won’t pretend I didn’t warn Nikiforov of this possibility. They won’t be happy with you training in Russia again. They especially won’t be happy if they think you’re being trained by _their_ coach.”

 

Yuuri nodded thoughtfully, then leaned forward. “I get that Coach Cialdini, but… next season is probably going to be my last. It wouldn’t be a good idea to change coaches _anyways._ You worked remotely with Phichit while he trained in Thailand a few years ago, can’t we do something similar?”

 

Celestino hummed thoughtfully, then shook his head. “Phichit had an excellent assistant coach on site with him in Bangkok. She was able to work with me to keep him in competitive form. With so much on the line for you next season, I’d want nothing less for your training. A pretty problem, indeed.” He glanced out the office window at the forms still spinning out on the ice, brow furrowed. “Thankfully, we have some time to work this out. And… I may have an idea. Let me think on this, eh Yuuri?”

 

 **February 7** **th** **, St. Petersburg**

 

The _Imperial March_ rang out, too loud even in the noisy seating area. Victor scrambled to silence the phone, fielding glares and amused glances from his nearest seatmates. Yuuri had set the ringtone for Yakov years ago, and the silver haired Russian would be lying if he said he didn’t find it both amusing and horrifyingly accurate even to this day. With a wince, he hit the green ‘answer’ button and held the phone a reasonable distance away from his ear.

 

 _“VITYA!”_ Yakov barked, earning Victor another glare from his neighbor.

 

“Ah! Yakov! Hello! How are you this fine morning?”

 

“It’s the strangest thing, Vitya,” growled the retired Coach. “I stopped by the Club this morning and _Georgi_ is teaching _your_ Junior spin class.”

 

“Ah… I needed a break? Georgi’s really very good with the spin class! Europeans was just _so_ exhausting!” Victor knew he was tiptoeing into babbling territory, but, really, it was almost instinctive behavior when talking to Yakov. HOW did the man manage to do that to him, even post-retirement??

 

A heavy sigh echoed down the line. “Vitya. Europeans was nearly two weeks ago.  Please. PLEASE tell me you are not abandoning your students to go to Four Continents on your own? After everything we talked about?”

 

Victor gasped in dismay. “Yakov! You wound me! I would NEVER abandon all of my students to go to Four Continents by myself!” Yakov grumbled for a few more minutes, before finally ending the call. Victor dropped his phone with a relieved sigh. Really! Did Yakov think he had no sense of responsibility?? Beside him, a tall blond smirked as their boarding group was finally called.

 

“Yakov’s finally going to actually fucking murder you,” Yuri stated flatly while Mila giggled from his other side. Alexei, thank god, merely continued to bounce giddily, thrilled to be along for the adventure.

 

 **February 9** **th** **, 2021, Taipei**

 

_“Skater Katsuki! Jean-Jacques Leroy seems to be poised for a come-back after struggling in the first half of the season. Do you anticipate a challenge here in Taipei?”_

 

_“Mr. Chulanont! You took the bronze at the Grand Prix Final, are you hoping to challenge your rink-mate for the gold this week?”  
_

 

_“Yuuri! How will the presence of Coach Nikiforov and the Russian Team affect you this weekend? Are they here to support you? Is this confirmation of your return to St. Petersburg?”_

 

“I… what? Uh, no comment! No more questions at this time!” Yuuri caught Phichit’s eye, indicating the hotel entrance with a jerk of his head. The Thai skater nodded and made his own excuses before the two men shoved their way past the eager reporters and photographers. As they passed the doors, Yuuri’s fingers were already flying on his phone, annoyance warring with amusement in his face.

 

“Yuuri? You okay? What happened out there?” Phichit watched, perplexed, as Yuuri shook his head, putting his phone up to his ear. The younger man moved closer, eager to eavesdrop on whatever had his friend in this strange mood.

 

“Hello, darling. I just heard the most _interesting_ rumor…”

 

***

 

Mila laughed at the sheepish expression on her Coach’s face as he dropped his phone and flopped down on the hotel bed. He grinned wryly up at her, lips twisting in the familiar heart shape.

 

“I maaaay have failed to tell Yuuri our plans,” he whined. Yuri snorted from his perch on the overstuffed chair in the corner.

 

“Bull. You knew he’d tell you no if you asked,” the young man bluntly retorted. Alexei glanced between the men, eyes wide.

 

“Yura! It was a surprise! I couldn’t _tell_ him!” The Coach widened his eyes in faux shock, drawing a renewed round of giggling from the redhead sitting next to him. His thin lips settled into a more serene expression before continuing. “We’re all meeting with him and Phichit for lunch in half an hour, so you’re in this boat too, Yura!”

 

“Fucking great.”

 

 **February 10** **th** **, 2021**

Early evening shadows stretched in the hotel room, falling on Yuuri’s form, curled on the bed in a post-short program haze. Earlier his mind had buzzed- running numbers, calculating points, replaying interviews, but now… warm breath tickled his ear and he wriggled closer to the warm body behind him, content, mind at peace. A pleased hum echoed in the quiet room and lips pressed against the back of his neck.

 

“I am _very_ glad you have your own room this season, _solnyshko_. Makes for such lovely cuddle sessions.”

 

Yuuri turned in his lover’s arms, grinning up at the lovely face beside him. “Hmmmm, I’ll pass your appreciation on to Phichit, he’ll be thrilled to know you approve.” Victor flashed a brief smile, which, to Yuuri’s surprise, fell swiftly into an uncertain frown. The Japanese skater poked teasingly at the tiny wrinkle creasing his husband’s forehead. “Hey! Vitya? What happened to our ‘lovely cuddle session’?”

 

“Just… worried,” the silver-blond reluctantly admitted. Yuuri pulled himself up onto an elbow, looking down at the older man in concern.

 

“About the FFKK? Do you think you’ll be in trouble over this trip?”

 

Victor shrugged off the question with a weak grin. “I don’t care about them. The worst they’ll do is slap me on the wrist. There’s nothing wrong with scouting a competition. It’s valuable experience for Alexei to attend a major international competition and Yura never turns down a chance to scout his competition. He’s gunning for you at World’s, you know.”

 

Yuuri grinned at that. When was Yuri Plisetsky _not_ gunning for him? A sign of normalcy if there ever was one, really. But… despite the flippant tone, _something_ was bothering his spouse. Sober blue eyes met his own, their gaze contemplative.

 

Victor licked his lips, his gaze dropping. Tentatively, he gently kneaded Yuuri’s thigh through the track pants he had napped in. “Did I overstep my bounds? Coming here, I mean?”

 

Sitting all the way up, Yuuri reached for the slender chin, trying to pull the blue eyes back up to his face. “Vitya? What? Why would you think that?”

 

Victor shrugged but sat up to meet Yuuri’s eyes. “Yesterday at lunch, you seemed… annoyed. I just, I don’t want you to be mad at me, Yuuri!” His voice was a strangled whisper, the worry and uncertainty bubbling out in the quiet of the room. “I’m so _tired_ of us being angry with each other… I didn’t mean to upset you… please don’t leave me… ”

 

“Hey! Victor! I’m not mad at you! I was surprised, I was tired, I was jetlagged… but I’m _thrilled_ that you’re here! I love having you at my competitions, even if you can’t be rinkside. I’m not going anywhere, my love. Where is this coming from all of a sudden? Everything was _fine_ earlier!”

 

“I don’t know,” Victor admitted, a bit of a catch in his voice as he curled his head down against his partner’s chest, pulling the slender man closer. Yuuri ran his fingers through the pale hair, mouth twisted in concern.

 

“Love. Vitya, please look at me sweetheart?” Pale blue flashed up at him, silver lashes damp. “Sweetheart… did you talk to Dr. Petrova about this trip?” The pale cheeks flushed guiltily and Yuuri sighed. “Okay. That’s alright. You need to talk to her when you get home, okay? Maybe we can set up a joint session on one of those secure voice links she has? For now, just _listen_ to me. I am _not_ angry with you. I am not leaving you. I am glad that you’re here. I love you. Okay?”

 

Slim arms wrapped fiercely around Yuuri’s waist as Victor took a deep breath.

 

“Okay.”

 

 **February 13** **th** **, 2021, Taipei**

 

The DJ for the banquet was terrible. Yuuri winced as yet another terrible 90’s American tune thudded its way through the ill-balanced speakers, reaching for a glass of champagne as a server passed his way. Beside him, Celestino raised a heavy brow.

 

“Something on your mind, Yuuri?”

 

The raven-haired skater cast his eyes towards the corner of the hall, where his husband was deep in conversation with, of all people, Jean-Jacques Leroy. The silver medal gleamed from the Canadian’s chest and, for once, the man didn’t look displeased with the results of the competition. Nervously fingering the gold medal shining around his own neck, Yuuri chanced a hesitant response.

 

“Coach… you said you might have an idea about next season. When we get back to Detroit… I think we have some decisions to make.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after Anime Expo I basically went straight to San Diego Comic Con and then Otakon, with a healthy dose of day job, fic writing and lots of laundry in between. The good news is that my convention schedule clears up until Argentina Comic Con in December, so I should have a calmer life to do more writing! 
> 
> Thank you as always to the fabulous Magrathea for the Beta read. She just updated her phenomenal fic, The Shortest Days. Go. Read. Enjoy.
> 
> Up next: Victor and the St. Petersburg Crew deal with their favorite FFKK Chairwoman. Which side will Yakov take?


	4. February 2021, Pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's plans begin to fall into place. 
> 
> Victor's? Not so much.

**February 15** **th** **, 2021, Pulkovo International Airport**

 

Victor startled out of a restless doze as the wheels of the plane hit the runway a tad too roughly. Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he quickly thumbed his phone out of airplane mode. An alarming amount of notifications filled his screen, and, with some annoyance, he cleared them to get to his messaging screen.

 

**To: Life and Love –** Just landed. Miss you already.

 

When no response flashed back, he pocketed the phone with a moue of disappointment. Rationally, he knew the flight from Taipei to Detroit couldn’t have possibly landed yet, but… Ah well. With a barely suppressed groan, he finally rose from his seat, snagging his carry-on before exiting the plane. His students hadn’t made it out of their rows yet, so he killed time trying to subtly stretch the tiny, stubbornly persistent ache from his knee. When he finally glanced up, he caught sight of the trio of young skaters. Yuri was staring at him knowingly, one eyebrow raised as Victor hastily straightened and waved them over.

 

“Have you turned your phone back on yet, old man?” The younger man flashed his phone in Victor’s direction, the indication screen nearly as full as his own. Mila’s forehead wrinkled as she frowned down at her own screen. Alexei, thankfully, seemed unconcerned as he tapped away at a game. At least they were leaving the teen alone. For now.

 

“I’ll deal with them Yura. Don’t worry about it,” the silver legend breezed, earning a suspicious glare from the blond.

 

“Fine,” he spat. “Whatever, I don’t  _ care _ . It’s not  _ my _ problem. Let’s just get our fucking bags and get out of here.” He stormed away, leaving the rest of the travelers to follow in his bristling wake. Mila glanced sympathetically at her Coach and friend.

 

“Vitya, he’s just worried. You don’t have to face everything on your own, you know. We’ve got your back.” Victor flashed a tight-lipped smile in her direction before glancing back down at his phone. The notifications had managed to multiply in the few minutes since they’d landed. A frisson of nerves slid down his spine. Despite his glib reassurances to both Yuuri and his students, the possibility of repercussions was very real. His mouth fell into a flat line as he walked, his eyes inexorably drawn to the mounting notifications. With a determined huff, he thumbed the power button, shutting down his phone.

 

In the grand scheme of things, time spent with Yuuri was worth any lecture or punishment the FFKK felt like levying. He’d sacrificed life and love for career enough for one lifetime.

 

**February 19** **th** **, 2021, Detroit**

 

Sitting across from Celestino, Yuuri felt a bit like a wayward school child, instead of a 29-year-old figure skating World Champion. It had always been this way, really. Ciao-Ciao loomed larger than life and Yuuri… Yuuri just  _ was. _ Somehow, by some miraculous accident, he had succeeded in achieving his dreams. He owed that success to so many people – his family, Minako, Yuuko…  _ Victor… _

 

But so much of his adult success lay here, in this familiar office in Detroit, in this boisterous Italian man that had given him  _ so _ many chances. If Victor had been his inspiration and motivation, Celestino had been his foundation and backbone. He owed his first GPF appearance to the man currently steepling his fingers across the desk from him. In a way, he owed Celestino for the entire trajectory of his life ever since.

 

Right now, his coach seemed to be waiting for something. Yuuri shifted awkwardly in the hard, plastic chair, uncertain why the older man was being so uncharacteristically quiet. He cleared his throat, hoping to broach the topic of their meeting, but paused at a soft knock on the office door.

 

“Ah, come in Natalie!” Celestino cheerfully boomed. Yuuri caught a glimpse of curly red hair as the young assistant coach plopped into the seat beside him. She flashed a cheerful grin in his direction, before turning an attentive gaze towards Celestino. Leaning back, the Italian coach glanced between the younger pair appraisingly.

 

“Yuuri, Natalie has expressed an interest in moving on to a head coaching position in the next few years. She and I have spoken, and I feel that she would benefit from taking on a more one-on-one position with a Senior level skater. She’s willing to come with you to St. Petersburg for the next season and would act as my proxy for your training sessions.  If you agree to this, I would expect you to treat her with the same respect you have always shown  _ me _ . She is highly capable and having her there will go a long way towards making me more comfortable training you remotely.”

 

Yuuri sat back, stunned. “Coach… Natalie…  _ Thank you!  _ I… I don’t know what to say. You’d really be willing to travel so far, for so long?” He addressed his words to the young woman beside him, who flashed a blinding smile.

 

“Yuuri, it would be an honor to act as your stand-in coach! I should really be thanking  _ you.  _ Do you know what this is going to do for my resume? Working directly with the number 1 Men’s Singles skater? On-site at the St. Petersburg Skate Club? Wow!” She laughingly fanned herself, pulling an answering chuckle from the Japanese Ace.

 

Standing, Yuuri offered a low bow towards the two coaches before rising and holding each of their eyes in turn. “Thank you. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but…  _ thank you. _ I’ll do my best to make this season worth your extra effort!”

 

Celestino beamed at him. “Oh, my dear boy. From you, I would expect nothing less.”

 

 

**February 22** **nd** **, 2021, St. Petersburg**

 

 

His knee hurt. He knew it was mostly in his head, but sometimes, when he was anxious his damn knee  _ ached _ . Reminding him of his failures. Reminding him of his mistakes. It was damned inconvenient right now, because he needed to be focused, needed to be sharp.

 

Because right now? Right now, Chairwoman Rubina was glaring at him from across his own desk and damned if he would let her know he was nervous. Fixing his expression into his most serene media face, Victor smiled blandly at the woman. Beside her, Yakov winced, recognizing his protégé at his most dangerous.

 

“Coach Nikiforov, I’m sure there can be no question as to why I’m here,” Rubina started grimly.

 

“Oh, yes! I can’t say I wasn’t expecting this! I had no doubt that the FFKK would want to recognize the St. Petersburg Club for its strong showing at Europeans!” Victor grinned broadly as Yakov buried his face in his hand. Rubina blinked, nonplussed. Slowly, her face purpled as she processed his words.

 

“Are you  _ mocking  _ me, Mr. Nikiforov?”

 

The young coach leaned back in his chair, arching a pale brow. “I wouldn’t know what you mean, Chairwoman. I hold you and the FFKK in the highest respect.”

 

“I am  _ speaking,  _ Mr. Nikiforov,” Rubina spat, “Of your unauthorized and highly unorthodox excursion to Taipei for the Four Continents Championship. I am  _ speaking _ of the fact that multiple international news sources broadcast images of you and several members of the St. Petersburg Skate Club,  _ including _ a minor, at a competition at which they had no business. You have  _ already _ been warned about allowing your personal life to interfere with your professional obligations. Explain to me why you shouldn’t be  _ immediately _ sanctioned by the FFKK.”

 

Victor glanced at Yakov for a moment, a pulse of silent communication passing between the two men. When he returned his gaze to Chairwoman Rubina, his clear blue eyes had hardened.

 

“If you are insinuating something, Chairwoman, you’ll have to be a bit clearer. You see, yes. I went to Four Continents. And, yes, I took my Senior level skaters with me. If I recall correctly, when you and Councilman Mishin approached me last April, you expressed a desire for me to repeat the coaching success that I had with Yuuri Katsuki. Despite your thinly veiled implications, I had my skaters firmly in mind during the Four Continents Championship. Much of my  _ husband’s _ success lies in the fact that he was given the opportunity to attend many of my competitions without the pressure of actually performing. I merely provided the same opportunity for Skaters Plisetsky, Babicheva and Ivanov.”

 

Leaning forward, Victor matched Chairwoman Rubina glower for glower. The older woman’s face gradually shifted to a furious shade of puce.

 

“I will be blunt, Coach Nikiforov. Your position, and the subsidization of this Club, is entirely at the mercy of our organization. If you wish to remain Head Coach here in St. Petersburg, you cannot coach the reigning Japanese champion. Any signs of distractions at the World Championships in Stockholm could lead to drastic decisions regarding your career. Am I clear?”

 

Victor leaned back, nostrils flaring in barely suppressed fury. “Crystal.”

 

Rubina rose with a curt nod in Yakov’s direction. The men followed suit, watching as the woman exited the office. As she departed, the older man released a sigh, seeming to deflate at her absence.

 

“Vitya…”

 

“No. Yakov, I’m not going to let them bully me. I did  _ nothing _ wrong.”

 

Another sigh. “Is Katsuki returning to St. Petersburg?”

 

Victor held his mentor’s eyes. “Yes. But we both know I can’t be his coach. It won’t be a problem.”

 

The older man leaned forward to pat his protégé’s shoulder. “Cling to that belief, Vitya. It may be the only way you survive this mess.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bless my dear Beta reader, Magrathea. She hates Rubina with a burning passion. There were death threats made to imaginary villains. Mags now knows the majority of the upcoming plot bunnies. 
> 
> And yes, Rubina is a bitch. I'm sorry Vitya! 
> 
> I'm going to try to get into an every other week alternating schedule between this and Reclaim the Stars. 
> 
> Up next: The lead up to Worlds. Yurio and Vitya have a long overdue conversation. Yuuri turns in his final thesis proposal and prepares to leave Detroit behind, again. Phichit hunts for a new roommate.


	5. March 2021, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yakov will always be a coach at heart. Yuuri comes a little closer to finishing grad school. Yurio and Victor have a long overdue conversation.

**March 7 th, 2021, St. Petersburg**

Victor sighed as the knock sounded in his otherwise quiet apartment. Pulling himself off the couch, he dropped his book on the side table as he made his way towards the door. He’d nearly forgotten that he’d offered to have Georgi over on their rest day; he only hoped that the other man wasn’t hungry. Surely just a bottle of wine would be enough at this time of night?

 

Cracking the door, he opened his mouth in greeting and froze.

 

“Vitya,” Yakov huffed. “Close your mouth and finish opening your door.” Behind the retired coach, Georgi, Mila and Yuri stood in varying states of discomfort. Victor blinked at them in confusion, then narrowed his eyes.

 

“I don’t need another intervention,” he started flatly. Yuri rolled his eyes as Yakov glowered.

 

“I honestly don’t want to know what that even means, Vitya,” the older man began tiredly. “Are you planning to leave us out here all night, or can we come inside?” There was a jostling motion and Yuri was suddenly pushing his way past Victor’s arm.

 

“C’mon. The old man forgets his manners sometimes.” The young blond waved an inviting hand as he made his way towards the kitchen and Victor huffed a suppressed laugh.

 

“Welcome in, I suppose,” he grinned wryly as he backed away from the door. The remaining trio moved past him, Mila offering a cheeky smile as she entered.

 

A few moments later, Victor felt a sense of déjà vu as he leaned against the refrigerator, accepting a glass of vodka from Yuri. His vodka, of course, purloined once again from the freezer. He raised an eyebrow as the group toasted.

 

“Okay, so you _do_ all know that Yuuri and I are working things out, right? No interventions needed? Very happily married Victor Nikiforov, here!” He was babbling in his confused panic, glass of vodka mostly ignored.

 

“Jesus, drink your damned vodka, Victor,” Yuri snapped. “We’re not fucking here because of Katsudon!”

 

“Ah, o-okay,” Victor stuttered. In the ensuing silence, he tentatively sipped his drink, blue eyes wide as he glanced between his guests. Finally, heaving a deep breath, Yakov broke the awkward silence that had settled over the kitchen.

 

“I have known you all since you were children,” he began, looking down at the floor, brow furrowed. “You are all exasperating and dramatic, but you are talented and hard working.”

 

“Ohmygod, Coach Yakov’s dying!” Mila gasped, tears welling up in her bright eyes. Yakov glared at the ceiling, as if begging it for support. Yuri snorted, trying not to spill his liquor.

 

“Jesus, Baba, he’s not fucking dying,” he spat, rolling his eyes as Yakov ran a hand through his much-thinned hair.

 

The retired coach muttered under his breath for a few minutes, poured himself a refill, and then pulled a stack of folders out of the worn leather bag hanging from his stooped shoulder. Victor leaned forward, thumbing through the stack before leaning back against the refrigerator.

 

“For somebody in retirement, you seem to make free use of my office,” the silver legend said, pointedly staring at the pile of folders. Yakov waved a negligent hand, ignoring Victor as he flipped open the folders and pulled out several sheets of paper.

 

“Da, da, if you wanted me to stay out of your office you should have changed the lock. Or the security codes. Now _look_.” The younger quartet leaned over the table, scrutinizing the papers that the elderly man had indicated.

 

“Our skating contracts?” Mila wondered out loud, glancing between Yakov and Victor. Georgi picked up one of the sheets, reading it more carefully, forehead wrinkled in thought.

 

“The St. Petersburg Skate Club is under the direct leadership of the Figure Skating Federation of St. Petersburg, which is in turn under the leadership of the FFKK. As members of the National Team, Yuri, Mila and Alexei Ivanov are subsidized not only by the St. Petersburg Federation, but by the FFKK as well. As coaches, Victor and Georgi are paid partially by the FFKK, but they also receive direct payment from each individual student. Additionally, they hold separate certifications with the FFKK and with the ISU.”

 

Mila and Yuri looked confused, but Victor reached for the folder with his name, glancing between his own contract and those of his skaters.

 

“Several members of the Russian National Team skate under foreign coaches or at least in foreign rinks. In fact, it’s not uncommon for top level skaters to train internationally. Katsuki is a prime example.”

 

Victor and Georgi both nodded, still scanning the contracts.

 

“As both the chairwoman of the Coach’s Council _and_ the director of the St. Petersburg Federation, Rubina has the authority to determine who coaches at the St. Petersburg Skate Club,” Yakov stated grimly.

 

“That’s fucking _bullshit_ , that hag has had it out for Vitya for ages!” Victor smiled at the vitriol in his young protégé’s voice, recognizing the unconscious use of his diminutive for the declaration of loyalty that it was.

 

“Yura,” he said calmly, “I believe Yakov is attempting to point out that she can take the _Club_ from me, but that she can’t bar me from coaching elsewhere.” The retired coach nodded, something like satisfaction crossing his face.   

 

“ _If_ Rubina makes a move, you still have options Vitya.” Victor nodded, deep in thought.

 

“So, what, Victor runs off to coach in some foreign rink and abandons us to whoever she brings in to replace him?” Yuri looked furious at the thought. Mila threw a comforting arm around her friend’s waist.

 

“Yura! You and I make enough in sponsorships. We don’t _need_ the government subsidies anymore, not really.” Yakov nodded.

 

“Da. Yura, Mila, you can choose where you train. You can decide on your own coach. You will still owe your dues to the FFKK if you want to stay on the National Team, but you do not have to stay here in St. Petersburg. Nor does Georgi, or any other member of the Club for that matter. Rubina may not make good on her threats, but you all have options.”

 

The light in the kitchen grew dim as the sun set and the level in the bottle dipped as the young quartet quietly contemplated their futures. Yakov shook his head, smiling almost wistfully. He may have retired, but he would never truly stop watching over his children.

 

  
**March 15 th, 2021, Detroit**

Yuuri fidgeted in his seat as he waited for his advisor to finish glancing through his final thesis edits. Finally, the professor pulled her glasses off, setting them on the desk as she leaned back in her chair to gaze at her student.

 

“Well, Yuuri, I honestly can’t think of any other corrections. I think this is ready for your final defense.” She smiled as the Japanese student collapsed in relief, then picked up her pen and signed off on defense application. “You’ve done well, Yuuri. Not many students manage a Master’s degree while maintaining an international athletic career. You have one more major competition before your defense, correct?”

 

“I do,” Yuuri replied, smiling ruefully. “Worlds. I, ah, I’m hoping to win my fifth title there,” he offered shyly. The professor laughed, shaking her head.

 

“Go win your competition, Yuuri, then get your butt back here. I’m not going to go easy on your defense prep! We have less than two weeks once you get back!” She grinned reassuringly at her student, recognizing the slight look of panic in his wide brown eyes. “Relax Yuuri. If anyone can pass a Sports Management thesis defense, I think it might be an actual world-class athlete. I believe in you. Now go get that title!”

 

Yuuri smiled as he gathered his papers, leaving the office with a buoyant step. With a cheerful wave at his advisor’s receptionist, he fished his cell phone out of pocket, grinning down at the well wishes on his messaging screen. Thumbing the most recent contact, he tapped out a quick text.

 

**To: Vitya <3 – Final draft approved!**

 

The response came swiftly.

 

**From: Vitya <3 – \ (•** **◡** **•) / I never doubted! So smart, my Yuuri!**

 

Grinning, Yuuri answered the incoming call.

 

“Yuuuuri,” his husband crooned. “I’m taking you out for dinner in Stockholm next week. Just you and me. We have to celebrate! My husband has a Master’s degree!”

 

Yuuri chuckled. “Not quite yet, Vitya. I still have the defense and graduation to get through. But I won’t say no to dinner.”

 

“It’s a date then!”

 

“I’ll see you soon, darling.”

 

“Soon, my Yuuri!”

 

**March 20 th, 2021, Pulkovo Airport**

 

Russia’s silver legend was lost in thought when he felt a body settle into the chair beside him. A rather pointy shoulder leaned into him as he glanced up, catching a glimpse of Yuri’s face, tight with some sort of conflict.

 

“Yura? What is it?”

 

The younger man was silent for a moment, leaning further into his coach’s shoulder. Finally, with a deep breath, he plunged in.

 

“It was me. I never told you, but, Worlds, two years ago. I’m the one that helped Yuuri pack. He stayed with me the last couple days before we all flew out. I didn’t warn you he was leaving, and I never told you after, but… it was me.”

 

The two young Russians were silent for a moment after the confession, each lost in thought.

 

“I knew.” Yuri looked startled as Victor broke the silence. “Not at the time, but… when he didn’t come home. After, I mean. I knew you had something to do with it.” He winced, looking slightly guilty. “It’s why I stopped calling you Yura for so long. I… I was angry.” Yuri shrunk in on himself, looking impossibly young. Victor slung an arm over the narrow shoulders, pulling the blond closer.

 

“I’m not mad anymore Yuratchka,” he said softly. Emerald eyes flashed up at him in question. “I’m not, truly. You helped the man I love, at a time when I couldn’t. _Wouldn’t._ And when I _was_ in a place where I was able to… to be good for him again… Yura, as silly as Phichit’s little conspiracy was, you didn’t hesitate to help bring us back together.” He hugged the younger man. “You’re a good friend, Yura.”

 

The blond pulled away, hiding his face in his hair as Victor pretended not to notice the other man’s tears. Wiping furiously at his eyes, Yuri finally spoke again. “Rubina was harassing Alyosha. At Europeans. I think she was trying to get him to spill some sort of dirt on you and the piggy.” Victor narrowed his eyes grimly at the revelation.

 

“She should _not_ be harassing children. Her issue is with _me._ ”

 

“Tcha. I don’t think she’s interested in playing nice, Vitya. But I thought you should know. That kid thinks you and Katsudon hung the moon or something. If we all leave St. Petersburg, we need to figure out how to take him with us.”

 

Blue eyes blinked in surprise. “Us?”

 

“What, you think I’m letting you get out of coaching me, asshole? You still owe me two more quads!”

 

Victor pulled the young man into a fierce embrace.

 

“I love you too, Yura.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have not read the supplemental chapters in "Tales From a Frozen Kingdom", you may enjoy "The Prince's Wrath" as a companion piece to the end of this chapter. Click the "Next Work" button to check out that and a handful of other one-shots from this universe!
> 
> I'm really happy with how this chapter came out, it feels very true to Once and Future Kings but with better editing! I can't believe I wrote all of OFK with no Beta! My dear Magrathea has made my writing SO much cleaner! Thank you!
> 
> Up Next: Our skating family reunites in Stockholm for Worlds. Victor confesses a few things to Yuuri. Yuuri takes it about as well as you'd expect.


	6. March, 2021, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor takes Yuuri out for a romantic dinner, but will words left unspoken ruin their night? 
> 
> Meanwhile, Yuri P. continues to prove that he's grown.

**March 22nd, 2021, Stockholm**

 

“You look ridiculous.”

 

Victor rolled his eyes.

 

“Yura, it’s a suit and tie. I’m taking my husband out for dinner,” he said patiently. The young blond glowered, crossing his arms.

 

“I don’t know why you didn’t invite the rest of us out, too.”

 

Victor smiled slightly at the petulant tone. “We’ll all do something together later this week. I just want to take Yuuri out to celebrate his upcoming graduation before we all get caught up in the craziness of competition. Okay?”

 

Yuri grumpily capitulated. “Ugh. Fine. I’m sure he’s stressed out with this whole FFKK debacle, too. I guess he deserves a night out before having to dive into that whole mess.”

 

Victor suddenly found the floor absolutely fascinating.

“Victor.”

 

Yes. This hotel definitely had the most fascinating carpet designs.

 

“Oi. Old man. Tell me you are not serious right now!”

 

Victor glanced up, trying not to meet the flashing emerald eyes. “I… ah… didn’t think he needed the extra stress?” It was true. Things between them were still so tentative, and Yuuri was dealing with finishing grad school on top of the pressure of trying for his fifth title at Worlds. Rubina and her vendetta were  _ his _ issue to handle.

 

Yuri glared at him flatly, eyes narrowing. “Bullshit, Vitya. This whole mess started because you two weren’t  _ talking _ . And I am not going through that again, just because you think you know what’s best when it comes to sharing vital  _ fucking _ information with your goddamned  _ husband _ . Maybe I was just a kid back then, but I’m not anymore. I  _ understand _ now. You jackasses forced me into this whole  _ friendship  _ crap. So. This? This is me being a good friend. Tell Yuuri what’s going on. Or I’ll do it myself.”

 

Despite the angry words and the pointed finger jamming into Victor’s chest, Yuri’s voice was softer than usual during the diatribe. The silver-blond took a deep breath, then pulled his student into a tentative hug. After a brief struggle, the younger man capitulated, leaning his head against his coach’s shoulder.

 

“Stupid. You two are so  _ fucking _ stupid,” Yuri whispered. Victor ran a soothing hand across the slender back.

 

“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll fix it, Yura,” he murmured soothingly. With a shuddering breath, the younger man final shoved away from his embrace.

 

“Tell Katsudon,” Yuri said warningly.

 

“I will. I promise.”

 

***

 

Yuuri’s anxiety was spiking. From the moment they’d met at the restaurant, Victor had looked nervous. Why?  _ Why? _ His irrational inner voices screamed that his husband was going to drop bad news, that he wanted to end things after all, despite everything they’d worked out over the last half year. His more rational side pointed out that Victor hardly needed dinner at an expensive restaurant to break up with him. Gazing unseeingly at his plate, he absent-mindedly shuffled more caviar onto his tiny toast point.

 

“Yuuri… sweetheart? Do… do you not like the food?” Victor’s voice was hesitant, causing Yuuri to look up in surprise. Blue eyes gazed at him in concern, all trace of personal nerves temporarily banished. He quickly popped the toast point into his mouth, grabbing frantically for his water glass when he inevitably choked on the appetizer.

 

“Nononono, ‘sgood!” Yuuri stammered, forcing an unconvincing smile onto his face as he swallowed. Victor sighed dreamily, then reached forward to wipe a smear of crème fraiche from the corner of Yuuri’s lips. Grinning, the Russian popped the finger into his mouth, winking as the younger man blushed. Gods, Yuuri was a weak, weak man. When Victor winked like that…

 

“Ruble for your thoughts, dorogoy?”

 

Yuuri winced, then plunged in. “I… I could ask the same thing, Vitya. You seem distracted. On edge. I… I got worried that… that maybe it was me? That something was wrong? That… that I did something wrong?”

 

Victor breathed out a long, low breath. “Oh, darling. Sweetheart.  _ No. _ I’m so, so sorry. You have done  _ nothing _ wrong.” He reached across the table, covering one of Yuuri’s hands before pulling back as the waiter approached to remove the appetizer plates. The nerves were back as they waited for the table to be cleared, Victor’s eyes landing anywhere but on his husband. Finally, as the waiter left, his shoulders slumped. “Dammit, I wanted tonight to be perfect for you. Relaxing.  _ Romantic. _ ”

 

Yuuri turned his hand under Victor’s, tangling their fingers together as he gazed at his lover in concern. The Russian coach worried his lower lip between his teeth for a moment, then finally met Yuuri’s eyes.

 

“Yuuri… how would you feel about  _ not _ moving back to St. Petersburg?”

 

The Japanese skater froze, his fingers suddenly gripping hard at Victor’s. “You… you don’t want me to move back?” The brown eyes watered, even as the man tried to maintain a steady tone. Victor was up and at his side in a heartbeat, wrapping his husband in a fierce hug despite the stares of the other diners.

 

“Shit. I am saying things so badly tonight. Yuuri, no, I want to be wherever you are. I just… it doesn’t have to be in St. Petersburg… we, we can be together anywhere right?” His voice was anxious as he wiped a gentle thumb along the tear tracks that had started to form on Yuuri’s cheek. The younger man leaned into the embrace, his voice barely a whisper when it came.

 

“Victor, we can go anywhere you’d like. Just tell me what the  _ hell _ is going on, please?” 

 

***

 

Victor glanced nervously at his husband as they walked along the bridge overlooking Stockholm Harbor. The sound of gentle waves carried in the still of the night, combining with the crisp air to remind them both of nighttime walks along the Neva. A strange ache filled his throat at the thought of his home. He’d traveled the world, sometimes staying away for months, but St. Petersburg had always been waiting for his return.

 

Would it still be waiting for him if he left this time?

 

He shook off the gloomy thoughts, focusing instead on Yuuri. The Japanese skater hadn’t spoken much since Victor’s confession at the restaurant, his blazing cinnamon eyes focused inward as they’d finished their meals and paid. The younger man had been silent on their walk back to the hotel - only his firm grip on Victor’s hand kept the Russian from descending into panic. If Yuuri had been angry at him, surely his hold wouldn’t be so fierce, so warm. Still…

 

“Are you angry, solnyshko?” His soft question sounded startlingly loud in the quiet darkness and Yuuri glanced at him in surprise. The dark brows furrowed together, tongue nervously licking the plush lips as Yuuri hummed in thought.

 

“No. Yes. A little?” Yuuri’s shoulders slumped as he turned to face his husband. “Not at you, Vitya. I’m… I just wish you’d said something sooner. I knew something was off about her, back in Chicago. I knew they wouldn’t want you coaching me, that’s why I worked things out with Celestino and Natalie… I just, I didn’t know things were  _ this _ bad. Why does she care about us being  _ together?  _ How is your private life even her business?”

 

Victor shrugged. “Yakov put the Club above his own marriage; I think she assumed I’d do the same.”

 

Yuuri barked a short, bitter laugh. “So, she wants you lonely and miserable.”

 

“Well… I  _ was _ lonely and miserable when they made me Head Coach,” Victor said softly, bright blue eyes shimmering with emotion. “They see you as a distraction. They…  _ she _ doesn’t realize that you make me stronger. So much stronger.” His voice was fierce, sincerity breathing through his words. Yuuri surged into his arms, pulling the taller man close.

 

“Yakov pointed out that I have options. I don’t  _ have _ to stay at the Club. I can work from anywhere as long as there are skaters who want me to coach them and rinks willing to give me time on the ice.”

 

Yuuri pursed his lips in thought, hands rubbing gentle circles on his husband’s back. Finally, he leaned back to peer up into his lover’s eyes. “You know, I graduate in a couple weeks. We should take a vacation.”

 

Victor grinned down at him. “Oh? I haven’t had a real vacation in years. I think I could justify a trip to celebrate my husband’s graduation. Did you have somewhere in mind?”

 

“Mmmmm, how do hot springs and katsudon sound?”

 

Blue eyes sparkled in delight.

 

_ “Perfect.” _

 

***

 

**March 23rd** **, 2021, Stockholm**

 

Yuri slumped against the rink wall, worrying at the nib of his water bottle as he caught his breath. His morning practice time was nearly over, and he was ready to crash in his hotel room. To his annoyance, his practice group was filled with faces he barely recognized and…

 

“Worn out already, Russian kitten? I don’t blame you for working extra hard now that I’m back in full JJ form!”

 

Fuck.

 

Rolling his eyes, the blond searched frantically for an escape route, but the loud Canadian was between him and the exit. Grinning broadly, the brunette settled to a stop next to Yuri, moving to lean against the same rink wall. As he cast a begrudging glance towards the other man, Yuri was somewhat surprised to realize he was now slightly taller. Over JJ’s shoulder, he caught sight of a familiar trio approaching the rink side.

 

With a curt nod in JJ’s direction, Yuri skated around the other man, making his way towards the exit. “Oi! Katsudon!” Yuuri waved from where he was bracketed between Cialdini and Chulanont. Grabbing his skate guards, Yuri jammed them on before striding towards where the Japanese skater had paused, allowing his coach and rink mate to move on without him.

 

“Yura! How was your practice time?”

 

“Eh. Whatever. We doing the group lunch thing later?”

 

Yuuri glanced towards where Victor was speaking with Alexei on the other side of the rink. His expression clouded slightly.

 

“Is… is that still a good idea? For you all to be seen with me before the competition?” The older skater was worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

 

Yuri snorted. “Victor told you about Rubina, then?”

 

Yuuri nodded solemnly. “I… don’t want to rock the boat in the middle of Worlds. Not for Victor, not for any of you. You’re a team, I don’t want to cause issues…”

 

Emerald green eyes darted across the rink, taking in the sight of his silver-haired coach. Victor had finally noticed the two of them talking and a soft smile had spread across the man’s face. Beside him, Alexei grinned and waved excitedly. He glanced back at Yuuri, who had lifted his own hand in a tiny return wave. Setting his chin determinedly, he crossed his arms as he leaned towards his friend.

 

“We’re not a team. We’re a family, Katsudon. And you’re fucking part of this family, too. Rubina’s the problem, not you.” Holding the Japanese skater’s eyes, he dropped his voice.

 

“Let’s rock the fucking boat, eh?”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise JJ appearance! I haven't really used him except for a few mentions in this series, but he'll be popping up every now and then. Strangely enough, he's the main villain in my sci-fi fic, Reclaim the Stars, but he's been completely off-screen so far. There's something about his 'voice' that is a challenge for me to convey in written word. He's just so bombastic and loud! 
> 
> Anyways! I'm slowly building a bit of a buffer between my two WIPs, hurrah! If I can build up enough of a buffer, I'll try moving to once a week instead of every other week!
> 
> Thank you Mags as always!
> 
> Up Next: The Men's Short Program. Christophe! Everyone's least favorite FFKK Chairwoman! Protective Yuuri!


	7. March, 2021, Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lines are drawn.

**March 24** **th** **, 2021, Stockholm**

 

_ “Mr. Katsuki! How do you feel going into the Short Program this afternoon? Are you anticipating a Grand Slam this season?” _

 

_ “Phichit! Can you explain this morning’s Instagram post? Was it a metaphor for your podium aspirations?” _

 

_ “Skater Plisetsky! How has your rivalry with Yuuri Katsuki been affected by his Grand Prix win? Are you planning to add any new quads this week?” _

 

_ “Skater Ivanov! Do you feel that your coach’s recent distraction has detracted from your success during your Senior debut season?” _

 

“No further questions, thank you! Our skaters need to get to their warm-ups!” Celestino stepped in, Victor hovering protectively in the background, handsome face dark with suppressed anger. Together, the two coaches ushered their Mens’ competitors into the bustling athletic complex. The Russian coach was clearly agitated, and all four skaters took turns peering at him in concern. Moving closer to the Japanese skater, Yuri leaned down to speak lowly in the other man’s ear.

 

“He’s more stressed than he was yesterday.” Yuuri hummed a quiet agreement, still watching Victor worriedly. “Do you think something happened?”

 

The dark head shook in a quick negative. “I was with him all last night,” he offered, the tips of his ears reddening with the admission. “Unless someone got to him after I left this morning, I can’t think of anything that could have happened.”

 

The young Russian snuck a glance in his coach’s direction. The silver-blond was walking on automatic pilot, his brow furrowed as he stared at his phone. Jutting his chin towards Victor, Yuri spoke again. “One: Gross. I don’t want to know where you two spend the night. Two: He hasn’t been off that damn phone all morning. The reporters’ questions pissed him off… how much do you want to bet that there’s some piece of shit gossip rag with a story we _really_ don’t want to read?”

 

Yuuri sighed. “ _ Shimatta _ . Keep Alyosha off his phone,  _ neh _ ? He’s just a kid, he doesn’t need to get distracted by this drama.” Yuri nodded curtly, watching his younger teammate with narrowed eyes, remembering how Rubina had cornered the boy at Europeans.

 

“Keep off yours too, Katsudon. Victor’s dramatic enough on his own, I don’t need both of you having a meltdown before the short program. Save it for our rest day, eh?”

 

Yuuri gave a dry huff of a laugh. “You  _ do _ remember who my rink mate is, right?” Both skaters glanced over to where Phichit, unsurprisingly, was huddled over the glow of his phone. They heaved near-identical sighs.

 

A heavy hand on Yuuri’s back drew his attention away from Yuri. “You’re skating in the third group Yuuri, Phichit’s in the second. So, let’s get you changed and start stretching, hmm?” Celestino’s voice boomed, overly cheerful. Victor glanced up from his phone, his expression concerned as Celestino began to lead his skaters away from the crowded rink side.  

 

_ ‘Good luck,’  _ the silver-blond mouthed, flashing a small smile as Yuuri blew a kiss in his direction. The Japanese skater followed in his coach’s wake, peering over his shoulder to watch Victor corral his own skaters. Turning back, he jogged a few steps to catch up to Phichit.

 

“So. On a scale of 1 to ‘ _ delete the entire internet’ _ , exactly how bad  _ is _ whatever you’re reading?” Yuuri asked casually, flashing a wry grin at his friend’s startled expression. Phichit shook his head ruefully, keeping an eye on their coach’s back as he slowed his pace, forcing Yuuri to match his steps as he leaned close.

 

“Well, either  _ you’re _ attempting to steal Victor away from the Russian team because you need his help during your last season or  _ Victor _ is messing with you in an attempt to destroy your chances in Beijing so that the Russian team can reclaim their Olympic gold. Depends on which… hmmm… ‘ _ news’ _ source you pick.” The Thai skater paused, glancing at his friend to judge the impact of his words before continuing. “Also, um, a couple sites have picked up on the fact that you aren’t renewing your lease in Detroit. I suspect we can thank our landlord for that leak.” Yuuri grimaced at that tidbit and Phichit smiled at him in sympathy. “Yeah, that’s sort of lending fuel to the whole ‘stealing Victor away’ theory. Also…” Phichit hesitated, biting his lower lip nervously.

 

“Peach… whatever it is, I’m going to find it eventually,” Yuuri warned, drawing a sigh of exasperation from his friend.

 

“Ugh. Fine. I’d rather you hear this from me anyways.” He poked at his phone, drawing it closer to his eyes as he quoted from the page pulled up on the screen. “ _ When asked about Katsuki’s potential return to St. Petersburg, an anonymous official with the FFKK stated that, as far as they were concerned, there was no truth to the rumor. ‘Russian ice should and will remain open only to those representing the best interests of the Russian figure skating team. While we wish nothing but the best to Skater Katsuki, what is best is for him to stay at his current rink.’” _

 

The two young men walked in silence for a few moments, blindly following Celestino’s lead. Phichit glanced at Yuuri nervously a few times, but the older skater seemed lost in thought. Finally, he cleared his throat, drawing his friend’s attention. “You, ah, you seem calmer about this than I would have thought…” Phichit offered tentatively. Yuuri nodded thoughtfully, coming to a halt as they arrived at the warm up room that Celestino had chosen for them.

 

“It’s not me they’re trying to control, Peach, not really. This FFKK…  _ person _ …” He paused, mouth twisting as he bit off the label, clearly tempted to use a far different word. “She…  _ They _ think Victor belongs to Russia. They see me as a threat, not just to their medal count, but to their sway over  _ him _ .” He smirked, lips quirking into an almost feral grin. “He doesn’t belong to them. They can’t… they  _ don’t _ own him, Phichit. Nobody does. But you know what?” His smile softened. “He _ chose _ to be  _ mine _ .”

 

***

 

Yuri slumped in the stadium seat, eyes narrowed as he watched the third group’s warm up. His short program had landed him comfortably at the top of the rankings. The only skater that had come within 10 points so far had been that damned hamster-loving freak and the margin between them and the other skaters left him confident that he’d be in the top six for the free skate on Saturday. The announcer’s voice boomed overhead, and Yuri leaned forward as the skaters on the ice streamed towards the exit, leaving one familiar figure standing near the rink wall, head bent as he listened to the last-minute instructions from his coach.

 

_ “Representing Japan – Yuuri Katsuki!” _

 

“Davai!” The cry was automatic, but it drew the eyes of the other skaters in the private seating area. He ignored their glances, focusing instead on his friend as the other skater made his way to the center of the ice. Green eyes narrowed as the Japanese Ace struck his opening pose. Off to the side of the rink, Yuri could see Victor and Alexei, clearly waiting to watch Yuuri’s performance. Yuri shook his head. He’d never say it out loud, but when it came to the reigning World Champion, most of the St. Petersburg Skate Club were idiots. Himself included.

 

The music started, soft and slow, and Yuri watched, half-mesmerized as the perform ance unfolded. He’d never admit it to the other man’s face, but Yuuri’s step sequences were still easily the best in the entire Men’s field. His jumps were still occasionally shit, but his edgework was astonishing. This program was no exception, and Yuri found himself holding his breath unconsciously, unable to look away. A slight wobble on his quad toe loop as Yuuri entered his second half was just enough of a flaw that Yuri felt confident he’d retain his top placement for now, but he knew the free skate would once again determine their final places on the podium. 

 

*******

 

_ “Skater Ivanov, how are you feeling placing in the top ten going into the free skate at your first Senior World Championships?” _

 

_ “Yuri! Congratulations on your first-place finish in the short program! Do you have any messages for your Angels?” _

 

_ “Coach Nikiforov! Can you please comment on your students’ performances so far this week?” _

 

Victor turned towards the reporter, his face a careful mask.

 

“I’m of course thrilled to have three skaters in the top ten going into the free skate. I anticipate a strong podium finish for Russia here in Stockholm!”

 

An odd buzz followed his response. Victor shrugged it off, using the pause as an excuse to pull Yura and Alyosha away from the media circus and into the private ISU lounge area. Yura made a beeline towards Otabek, who was relaxing with headphones on a corner couch. Alyosha hovered, bouncing from foot to foot, until he caught sight of Yuuri and Phichit ensconced on another sofa away from the entrance. Victor grinned as the boy joined the older pair, their smiles welcoming the young skater. No matter how successful they grew, neither of the Detroit based pair ever turned away their younger fans or competitors.

 

A young man wearing an FFKK badge stepped nervously into the room, approaching Victor with an odd mix of awe and confidence. Leaning up, he whispered a few short words into the coach’s ear. Stepping back, the young man lowered his eyes before making his exit, refusing to make eye contact with anyone else in the room.

 

Victor grimaced, glancing out of habit in his husband’s direction. Yuuri, of course, was watching, concern clear in his chocolate eyes. He shook his head, flashing a wide smile, trying to defuse the worry in his lover’s face before stepping out of the room.

 

“ _ Three  _ skaters in the top ten?” Chairwoman Rubina’s voice sent a chill down his spine as he stepped away.”

 

“Chairwoman,” Victor acknowledged the FFKK representative with a respectful tilt of his chin, refusing to allow any emotion into his voice.

 

“Are you  _ forgetting _ , Coach Nikiforov, that Yuuri Katsuki is  _ not  _ your student anymore?” Rubina’s voice was icy, her pale eyes stony as she glared up at the taller man. “We have  _ talked _ about your unfortunate inability to separate your personal and professional lives before, you have been  _ warned _ and now…”

 

“Mila Babicheva.” Victor broke through Rubina’s diatribe, his voice dangerously soft. “Mila Babicheva finished her short program in second place yesterday.  _ My _ skater. Mila. Three skaters in the top ten. Yuri, Alexei, and  _ Mila. _ ” The chairwoman flushed at Victor’s words, clearly taken aback. “It’s odd, Chairwoman Rubina. As far as I can tell, Yuuri Katsuki has done  _ nothing _ to you. So why this vendetta, hm? I’m starting to think perhaps it’s not  _ me _ that struggles to separate the personal from the professional.” He arched a thin silver brow in her direction, nodding as she stayed silent. Turning on his heel, he began to walk back towards the skater’s lounge.

 

“You are skating on perilously thin ice  _ Coach _ Nikiforov!” Rubina found her voice, hurling the words at Victor’s retreating back. He paused, glancing over his shoulder as he listened. “I have  _ warned _ you that your position is not guaranteed if you continue…”

 

He interrupted the woman again, tired of the threats, tired of  _ her _ . “What? You’ll fire me? In the middle of Worlds? And who will take over, hm? Would you really risk your precious podium finishes in order to put me in my place?” He turned fully back to face her, his eyes flashing a steely blue. The older woman was silent once again. He nodded, then continued. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get my skaters back to the hotel.”

 

He could feel her eyes boring into his back as he walked away, finally reaching the sanctuary of the lounge. Leaning against the wall just inside the door, he fondly watched the little group huddled near one of the couches - Yuri slumped over the back, a smirk lingering on his mouth as he watched Alexei excitedly chatter with Yuuri. His resolve hardened.

 

He wouldn’t let her take this from him. 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the love to Magrathea for her beta reading! 
> 
> So I meant to get to Christophe in this chapter and it didn't quite happen, so you can look forward to our favorite inappropriate Swiss commentator next time! 
> 
> Also up next: 'You're not me, Yuuri', Free Skates, Quad Flips and Consequences


	8. The End of Worlds (As We Know It), Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A wild Christophe appears!  
> Rubina's meddling goes a step too far, and Yuuri and Yuri are at the limits of their tolerance.  
> Victor finally realizes the cost of a few long forgotten words.

**March 25th** **, 2021, Stockholm**

 

Victor was so warm, wrapped in familiar arms, black hair tickling his nose as he blinked himself awake. Yuuri had turned into him during the night, cuddled into his chest, one hand lying loosely on Victor’s hip. The Russian smiled, pressing his lips against the crown of his husband’s head. Yuuri stirred, nuzzling into Victor’s chest before murmuring sleepily.

 

“Mmmmmmm, time ‘zit?”

 

Victor glanced at the clock. “A little after 5:00, _solnyshko_. I need to go soon.”

 

Yuuri grumbled a protest and Victor chuckled as he began the process of reluctantly detangling himself from his sleepy lover.

 

“I need to get Mila to the rink for morning practice. You can go back to sleep, you don’t have practice until later.” He pulled himself out of the bed, leaning down to kiss the pouting mouth. Yuuri blinked more fully awake, propping himself up on an elbow to admire the slightly blurry view as Victor began retrieving his clothes from the chair near the desk.

 

“We’re still doing dinner later?”

 

Victor hummed a muffled affirmation as he pulled the shirt over his head. “Women’s Free Skate starts at 3:00, so… maybe aim for 8:30?” Yuuri nodded, his eyelids drooping. Victor strode back to the bed, dropping one last kiss before making his way to the door. “Go back to sleep love, I’ll see you later.”

 

“Mmmm, love you.”

 

The Russian coach was smiling as he stepped into the hall, softly closing the door behind him. The happiness faded from his face as he stealthily padded his way to the elevator, half expecting a reporter, or worse, _Rubina_ , to appear. Entering the lift, he leaned against the wall. He was being ridiculous. She wasn’t some goddamned bogeyman, she was just… well… she was just one more person that felt she had the right to decide how he lived and who he was. He’d dealt with her type most of his life, each new official or sponsor wanting to control some tiny piece of his career, his image, his very _soul_ until there was no Vitya, no Victor just the _Living Legend._

 

Then Yuuri had blown into his world with a breath of drunken fresh air and he had grabbed on like a drowning man. Yuuri, who for the first time in years, just wanted him to be _himself._ He’d almost lost Yuuri once, had almost lost _himself_.

 

He straightened as the doors opened, mouth settling into a determined line. He was done giving away pieces of himself. He’d never give less than his best, but if the FFKK wanted him, it would be on _his_ terms.

 

***

 

“Dear Mila looks to be in fine form.” Victor didn’t bother turning as he felt another body settle next to where he was leaning against the rink wall.

 

“She has a strong shot at gold,” he replied, eyes still fixed on the redhead weaving her way around the other women on the ice. Beside him, Chris tapped a few notes into his phone before tucking it into the pocket of his coat. The Swiss commentator seemed to hesitate for a moment, steadfastly staring at the skaters while working his lower lip between his teeth.

 

Finally, Victor heaved a sigh. “Spit it out, Chris.”

 

The tall blond turned to face him, lips pursed. “There are a lot of interesting rumors going around, Victor. I’m worried.” Victor met the other man’s eyes but stayed silent as Christophe continued. “Working in the press area… I _hear_ things. Half the Russian contingent seems to think you’re moving to Japan, the other half seems to think Yuuri’s been banned from St. Petersburg. And since _neither_ of those are the story you told _me_ , I have to wonder what the hell is going on.  I’m… Victor, I’m _worried._ ”

 

Unusually sober hazel eyes held the icy blue ones for a long moment. Victor was the first to turn away. “It’s okay Chris, I’m… dealing with it. It’s just a misunderstanding.”

 

The tall blond reached out for his friend’s shoulder, forcing the other man to face him again. “Dammit Victor, please tell me if I can help! I’ve seen you ‘deal’ with things before and I don’t want to go down that road again!” He sighed. “I don’t mean to overstep my bounds, love, but you and Yuuri… you’re _good_ together. I don’t want to see you ripped apart again.”

 

Victor finally melted from his stiff pose, leaning forward to hug his friend. “It won’t come to that Chris. Yuuri and I… we’re committed. I’m not going to let anything change that. I’m not putting my relationship with my husband in second place ever again. If the FFKK can’t live with that, well, that’s their problem. But… _thank you_. Thank you for caring enough to check in on me.” Christophe smirked at the older man.

 

“Mmmm, well, I’ll be honest, if I wasn’t a happily taken man I’d be more than happy to pick up the pieces for either of you gorgeous boys, but, well…” He waggled a suggestive eyebrow, wriggling his left hand where Victor couldn’t help but see the flash of gold.

 

The Russian coach gasped. “Coffee later. I need to hear everything!” Chris chuckled, quickly agreeing before bidding a fond farewell. Lost in thought, Victor turned his focus back to the rink in time to catch Mila and Sara spinning each other in imitation of the pairs skaters.

 

“Mila! Stop flirting with your competition! Step sequences! Now!” The women flashed him teasing grins, but quickly split apart as Victor settled in to watch his skater.

 

***

 

Yuuri glanced at the clock as a light knock came at his door. Nearly 3:00. He grabbed his coat, hung his competitor’s badge around his neck and twisted the handle right as the second knock began to echo through the room. Alexei’s beaming face greeted him.

 

“Yuuri! I was worried you’d forget!”

 

“We _literally_ just talked to him an hour ago, Alyosha, I told you he wouldn’t forget.” Yuuri grinned across the hall, where a tall blond figure was leaning against the wall, tapping aggressively away on his phone.

 

“Yuri, I swear, I can actually _hear_ your roll your eyes when you talk. How do you even manage that?” The Japanese skater teased.

 

“Can it, Katsudon. C’mon, the next shuttle leaves in five minutes. Mila will murder us if we miss her skate.”

 

“She’s in first, she won’t be going on for hours, Yura, I think we’ll be okay,” Yuuri mused, earning another glare from his younger friend, who stared pointedly towards the elevator. Still chuckling, Yuuri began walking.

 

Yuri was quiet on the shuttle ride, letting Alexei dominate the bulk of Yuuri’s attention. As they moved to exit the vehicle, Yuuri caught the blond glancing around surreptitiously, clearly keeping an eye out for something more than just the usual flurry of cameras and reporters. Dodging those more or less successfully, the trio finally made their way to the blocked off section of seating reserved for competitors in time to catch the very end of the first group of women skaters. Yuuri recognized a handful of the occupants, waving a tiny hello to Guang Hong and Leo before settling into a row of seats between Yuri and Alexei.

 

Waiting until the teenager’s attention was distracted by a young skater Yuuri didn’t recognize, he finally leaned over to his friend. “Why are you so on edge? Did something happen?” The blond shrugged, pretending to focus on the milling skaters on the ice. “Yuri…”

 

The younger skater finally sighed, tapping at something on his phone before handing it over.

 

“Ahhhh, my Cyrillic isn’t really good enough for this…”

 

Yuri grunted, closing the email app. “It’s an e-mail from the Coach’s Council, reminding me that any skater who feels that they are not being challenged by their current coaching staff should feel free to contact them at any time.”

 

“That… seems benign enough…” Yuuri began hesitantly.

 

“I’ve been sponsored by the FFKK since I was 12. I’ve _never_ gotten an email like this. Alexei didn’t get one, so it’s not standard issue. I don’t know about Mila but… I’d guess she got one too.”

 

“Why Mila but not Alexei?” Yuuri wondered out loud, pensively eyeing the boy as he chattered with his friend.

 

“The fucking _Olympics_ .” Yuri spat. “They’re after potential podium finishers. Alyosha isn’t there yet. They see you as a distraction, a threat to their precious medal count. They can’t keep Victor away from you, so they’ll keep you away from _us_ by keeping _us_ away from Victor. _Tcha._ Idiots, all of them.”

 

Yuuri was silent for a moment. “Does Victor know?”

 

“Only if Mila said something. I’m not going to fucking make things worse for him. He’s… fuck, he’s been through enough. They’re assholes, I’m not going to feed into their little mind games with him. He’s a good fucking coach and he’s not a terrible person. He doesn’t deserve this shit.”

 

Yuuri huffed a laugh. “And people think _I_ have a glass heart.”

 

“Shut _up_ Pig.”  

 

***

 

Victor slid into the chair beside his husband looking frazzled, his silver-blond hair in mild disarray. “I’m soooo sorry, love! Everybody seemed to want their bite of Mila tonight and I couldn’t abandon her!” He flashed his best puppy dog eyes in Yuuri’s direction, leaning forward to snag a kiss. Yuuri chuckled against his lips.

 

“Vitya, you act like I have no clue what the press is like at Worlds! Congratulations, by the way, has to feel good to have that gold under your belt!”

 

The Russian coach grinned, leaning back in his seat to smile at the waitress as she approached, cocktails in hand. He cocked an elegant brow in Yuuri’s direction, silently toasting Mila’s win.

 

“I hope you don’t mind, I ordered for you since I kind of assumed you might get caught up…” Yuuri trailed off, flashing a winsome grin in his lover’s direction. Victor smiled, taking another sip of his drink.

 

“I’m just amazed you’re actually drinking before the free skate, Yuuuu-uuuri,” the Russian teased, causing the Japanese man to flush.

 

“Ah, well, just one. I’m feeling a little nervous, honestly,” Yuuri admitted. Victor leaned forward to place a hand over the younger man’s.

 

“Anything I can do to help, _lyubov moya?_ ” To Victor’s surprise, Yuuri’s eyes darted around nervously after that.

 

“Vitya… you can’t… you shouldn’t… someone might _hear_!”

 

Victor pulled back, blinking a little in hurt. “I… ah. Sorry?” Yuuri lunged forward to grab his retreating hand.

 

“I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I just don’t want you getting in trouble, sweetheart…”

 

Slim lips flashed in a smile of understanding, twirling the stem of his martini glass pensively. “Ah. Yes. Well.”

 

An awkward moment passed, both men fidgeting with their glasses as the waitress settled their food onto the table.

 

“Yuuri…”

 

“I’m nervous about…”

 

Victor laughed as they both stuttered to a stop. “You first darling.”

 

The raven-haired man sighed. “I, um, well… if I can win this… it’s my fifth. I, ah… Vitya, I think I’ll retire after the Olympics. It’s… it’s time.”

 

Victor quirked a half-smile. “Love, if you wanted to retire after tomorrow’s free-skate, nobody would blame you. You’ve had a remarkable career. Do what feels right. Keep skating. Or stop. It’s nobody’s choice but yours.”

 

Those stunning cinnamon eyes peered up inquisitively, a tentative smile on his face. “I promised you five World Championships…”

 

“Yuuri, I…”

 

The younger man interrupted hastily. “I… I know I’m not you and that it’s not the same, but, I… I really want to win a fifth Championship. I… maybe it doesn’t matter to you, but… it… it’s important to _me._ I just… I just want you to be proud of me…” he finished, voice suddenly small.

 

Victor felt his throat grow tight. “Oh, baby, I am _so_ proud of you. I’m sorry that I ever made you feel like I wasn’t!” Glancing down, he took a hasty bite of his meal, the delicious looking food tasting like ash in his mouth. As he chewed, something occurred to him. “You’ve… you’ve said that before. That… that you’re not _me_. What do you mean?”

 

Yuuri looked flustered… confused and a little sad. “You… you said I wasn’t you. That… that nobody could win five World Championships… I know you didn’t expect me to do it, but… I just… I wanted to do it, because you asked me to, y’know? And… and I’ll never have your record but I just… I just… all I ever wanted was for you to _see_ me…” There were tears in his eyes and Victor felt like shit, because it was the night before the World Championship free skate and he’d made his husband cry in a damned restaurant.

 

“Oh, my love, please, please look at me. What are you talking about? When did I say this?”  

 

Yuuri pulled his dignity around him like a cloak, sitting up a little straighter as he took a tentative bite of his meal. “It doesn’t matter.”

 

“Yuuri, it obviously matters.”

 

There was a long moment of silence, in which Yuuri drained his martini glass. Setting it down, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to meet Victor’s eyes. “The night before I… before I left. You said I ‘wasn’t you’. That you were just flirting with me when you told me to win five Championships. That… that you didn’t expect anyone to do it.” He gave a half-hearted smile. “Like I said. It doesn’t matter. I love you, I’m over it, okay?”

 

Victor felt frozen. “The… the night before you left? I don’t… god… Yuuri, what… what did you think I _meant?_ ”

 

Yuuri looked up, fork halfway to his mouth. Setting it down, he shrugged, looking defeated. “That… that I would never be as good as you. That… I’d never meet your expectations.”

 

Victor stared, numb. “Oh, _gods_ . Yuuri. Baby, is that… is that why you _left?_ ” Pieces of the past swirled, suddenly making far more sense. “Ohhhh…” he breathed. “No. Nonononono. I… _Yuuri!_ I won because that was _all I had._ I was _numb_ before I met you. The ice was _everything._ I never, _never,_ wanted you to be like me. You’re so warm, you have so much love, so many people who care about you… God, sweetheart, I love you, so _damned_ much. I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be like me. I’m sorry, I am _so_ sorry.”

 

Yuuri’s eyes had widened as Victor spoke. “Oh.” He paused, looking like he’d had a revelation. _“Oh, Vitya…”_

 

Victor’s throat burned. “I’m, can we…”

 

Yuuri nodded emphatically, summoning the server.

 

“Check? _Please?”_

 

_************_

 

_Edit 11/9/2018:_

_If you'd like to see a direct continuation of this chapter before jumping to the next 'official' chapter, please check out['A Kingdom Reclaimed' ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13598577/chapters/38824736) in my side story collection. _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO! This chapter was going to end up nearly three times my normal update size, so I've split it in two. I didn't want to delay the free skate portion, so that will go up as scheduled NEXT WEEK. Instead, you get the first half a week early rather than having to wait two weeks!
> 
> Beta read by the talented Magrathea


	9. The End of Worlds (As We Know It), Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Men's Worlds Freeskate results. 
> 
> Remember that I love you all.
> 
> Thank you to Magrathea for the Beta!

**March 26** **th** **, 2021, Stockholm**

 

“You look like shit.”

 

Ah yes, the dulcet tones of angry young Russians. Exactly what Yuuri needed this morning. He shrugged, continuing to stretch.

 

“ _Victor_ looks like shit, too.” Yuuri finally looked up, catching Yuri’s narrowed eyes as he leaned against the rink wall at his side.

 

“Are you asking me a question or are you making an accusation? Because I didn’t really get much sleep, you know, Victor kept me up _all_ night…”

 

“No. Stop. I hate you. I hate you both so fucking much.” Hands clamped firmly over his ears, the blond skated away as quickly as possible. Yuuri smirked at the younger man’s retreating figure.

 

“Wooow! Are you planning to explain to him that we were up all night because we were talking?” Victor was suddenly on the other side of the wall, clearly amused by the exchange.

 

“Nope!” Yuuri chirped, grinning broadly. Victor chuckled, shaking his head, as Yuuri moved out onto the ice to finish his warm-up. He waved cheerfully in greeting as he passed Alexei, then sped up to catch Phichit. His roommate flashed a cheeky grin in his direction as he switched to skating backwards.

 

“Heard the kitten ranting to Otabek about you and Victor being a, and I quote, ‘disgusting set of shitty role models who shouldn’t be allowed in public’.” Yuuri burst into hysterical laughter, drawing the young Russian’s baleful gaze from across the rink.

 

“Wow, _you’re_ in a good mood!”

 

Yuuri hummed an agreement, speeding up to clear space for a fast, tight triple loop.

 

“Planning to win, Chulanont!” He called out happily. “I’ve got promises to keep!”

 

“Not if I can help it, Katsuki!”

 

***  


 

_“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining NBC Sports as we enter our coverage of the final flight of men’s skaters at the 2021 ISU World Figure Skating Championships here in Stockholm, Sweden. As the ice is prepared for our final six skaters, let’s review our current standings. In third place, we have Michele Crispino of Italy, in second, Kenjirou Minami of Japan, and as we gear up for our top six skaters from the short program, Alexei Ivanov of Russia has surprised the entire skating world by landing in first!”_

 

_“That’s right, Christophe! You have to imagine that Coach Nikiforov and the FFKK contingent are pleased with Team Russia’s performance this weekend! With Mila Babicheva pulling off a decisive gold medal victory over longtime rival Sara Crispino and both Ivanov and Plisetsky likely to land in the top 10, Nikiforov and his students are certainly making their mark here in Stockholm!”_

 

_“Very true, Hisashi! It looks like our final six have been allowed to take the ice for their six-minute warm up. We’ll be seeing familiar faces tonight, with Ji, Leroy, Altin, Chulanont, Plisetsky and reigning World Champion Yuuri Katsuki vying for the podium! Stick with NBC for the exciting conclusion!”_

 

Yuri made his way off the ice, nodding at Beka as they separated to head towards their own coaches. Only Guang Hong remained on the ice as the skaters and their coaches scattered. Accepting his blade guards from Victor, he caught a familiar black and blue jacket from the corner of his eye and turned in time to catch a small smile and wave from Yuuri as he shadowed Chulanont and Cialdini to the recessed warm up areas. He half expected Victor to call out some sentimental nonsense to the Japanese Ace, but the older man seemed content to wait while Yuri gathered his gear.

 

“What, no gross words of farewell for Katsudon?”

 

Victor raised a coolly appraising eyebrow. “Yuuri will win or lose on his own legs, and after is all said and done, I’ll still be his husband. He knows I love him no matter what, but right now he’s your competitor and I’m _your_ coach, not his. You’ve got a strong shot at gold and I mean to do everything I can to help you win it.” Yuri stared for a long moment before snorting.

 

“Huh. That’s… weirdly mature for you, old man.” Victor smiled serenely.

 

“Ah, well, I’ve had a chance to put a few things into perspective is all.” Guang Hong’s music started, and Victor glanced up, eyeing the clock. “Let’s go, I want you to stay warm and focused, okay Yura?”

Yuri nodded. “I want to be out here when Yuuri skates though. I want to know what I’m dealing with,” he insisted, accepting his coach’s harried nod as a yes. As they stepped into the dim hallway, Yuri caught a familiar figure hovering near the entrance. He glanced at Victor quickly, relieved that the other man hadn’t seemed to notice Rubina lurking.

 

***

 

_“Well, Christophe, we’ve certainly seen some exciting performances today, although I have to say I was surprised to see both Leroy and Ji take such bad tumbles.”_

_“Ah, that’s the beauty and the challenge of competitive figure skating though, even consistent performers can falter, leading to surprising podium finishes! As it is, Otabek Altin is currently in first, with JJ Leroy in second and Alexei Ivanov in third.”_

 

_“And here come the scores for Thailand’s Phichit Chulanont… and as expected, he’ll move into first, knocking Ivanov out of podium contention and guaranteeing himself a medal! His rinkmate, Japan’s Katsuki Yuuri is cheering from the ice, he looks absolutely thrilled!”_

 

_“Of course, Katsuki, the reigning World Champion, has a lot to prove here today. He’s coming off victories at the Grand Prix Final as well as the Four Continents, could this finally be the year Japan takes home the Grand Slam?”_

 

Yuuri paced in slow circles on the ice, letting off a bit of steam with a cheer when Phichit’s scores were announced. As he spun about to face the judges, he caught sight of the familiar head of silver hair, a splash of bright blond standing to one side. He grinned slightly, ducking his head to press a quick kiss to the gleaming gold on his right hand. The gold at the top of the podium wasn’t the most important one in his life, now, but…

 

He’d still come here to _win_.

 

The lilting piano notes filled the arena as Yuuri began to move, flowing into his first sequence. Determination was still his theme, and it was fitting. He launched himself into the triple axel, arms raised, relieved at the crisp _clack_ as he landed. He let the momentum guide him into his spin and on to his first combination jump. Grinning with, well, _determination_ , he swapped the planned quad toe loop, triple salchow for a quad lutz, triple salchow. The crowd roared in approval and he used the sound to propel him forward. The quad salchow became his quad lutz, and he knew Celestino would lecture him about changing his jump sequences but… as he moved into his blisteringly fast second step sequence, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

 

He came out of the sequence, launching himself into the quad toe loop, one arm fluttering gracefully, then arched his back for his spiral sequence. His breath was labored, heart racing, but it didn’t matter now because all that was between him and the podium was one final jump. He’d show the world that he could win gold _and_ have love. All he needed was a deep breath.

 

A forward inside mohawk.

 

One. Two. Three. Four.

 

_*Clack*_

 

_***_

 

_“Ladies and gentlemen, a man who continues to go above and beyond our expectations! Katsuki Yuuri has skated an absolutely flawless performance here in Stockholm, finishing with the Quadruple Flip that has not been successfully landed by any skater since Katsuki last landed it at the 2019 Four Continents Championship in Anaheim!”_

 

_“Hisashi, the crowd is on their feet as they await the scores and… yes! As expected Yuuri narrowly misses breaking his record and has put a wide margin between himself and Chulanont! Yuri Plisetsky has his work cut out for him if he wants to take gold tonight!”_

 

“Fuck.”

 

“Focus, Yura.”

 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Of course, that shithead _would_ pull that out of the blue!”

 

“Calm. Down.” Victor put his hands on Yuri’s shoulders, holding him still against the rink wall. “All you need to do is skate a flawless program…”

 

“And pray to the figure skating gods that my PCS somehow outshines that performance? _Tcha._ My technicals can only get me to second. I can only take gold if they somehow give me higher performance scores and you know damned well that your _husband_ is the king there… _Blyad!_ ”

 

“Yuri, I…”

 

“Look. Vitya. You’re… you’re a good coach okay? But we both know there’s only one way for me to win this and… it’s _my_ choice.” Victor looked solemnly back at him, blue eyes to green. He nodded, accepting Yuri’s decision as the young skater moved away, acknowledging the screaming crowd with a raised hand.

 

The music started.

 

***

 

_“Thank you once again for tuning into NBC Sports for an absolutely scintillating conclusion to the Figure Skating World Championships!”_

 

_“So true Christophe! Yuuri Katsuki wins his fifth Worlds gold with an unexpected return to his signature closing quad flip and his rinkmate Phichit Chulanont achieved a personal best and a silver medal. Coach Cialdini must be ecstatic!”_

 

_“Perhaps the most shocking result came from Russia’s Yuri Plisetsky, who takes home the bronze after taking a bad tumble while attempting to ratify his first quad flip.”_

 

_“It was a gutsy move, Hisashi, and while it didn’t pan out today, I’m sure we’ll continue to see great things from Russia’s Ice Tiger moving forward!”_

 

_“For NBC this is Hisashi Morooka…”_

 

_“And Christophe Giacometti…”_

 

_“Signing off!”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah.  
> Um.  
> So?  
> You know the results?  
> I LOVE YOU!
> 
> Up next: Graduation Day and some fallout.


	10. April, 2021, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moves are made to control the St. Petersburg skate club, but Rubina and her cronies may have bitten off more than they can chew.

**April 2 nd, 2021, Detroit**

***Thudthudthud***

Yuuri jerked out of a dead sleep, the darkened room around him lending a sense of unease to the unusual wake up call.

 

“Huhwha?” He blurted eloquently. Apparently, it was coherent enough to encourage Phichit to swing open the door and plop onto the bed beside him.

 

“Phichit, I swear to god, there’d better be a good reason you are in my room at four in the morning,” Yuuri mumbled, squirming out from under his roommate’s bony hip. The Thai skater snuggled against him, pulling up his phone screen before thrusting it into Yuuri’s face.

 

“There is. I promise. Read.”

 

Yuuri snagged his glasses from the bedside table and reluctantly took the phone, sitting bolt upright when he read the headline.

 

 _"Nikiforov Placed on Probation Pending Evaluation by FFKK Coaching Panel,”_ he read slowly out loud, scanning the short blurb. “Shit, where’s my phone Phichit?” The smaller man waggled the device but held it out of his reach. Yuuri ignored him, still scanning through Phichit’s own phone. “Where all is this breaking?”

 

Phichit bit his lip. “IFS was where it popped up first, but ESPN and NBCSports have both picked it up. It’s a ‘developing story’. You might want to stay away from the rink today, you know they’re going to be after you for comments.”

 

Yuuri hummed distractedly, still flipping through news articles. “It’s a rest day anyways. I was just going to use the dance studio for a bit. Can I please have my phone?”

 

“Yuuri, he’s probably still in the middle of this. It’s not even noon in St. Petersburg yet, they must have sprung this on him first thing this morning…”

 

“I’m not going to call Vitya,” Yuuri swore, glaring when Phichit made a skeptical face. “Not yet anyways. You said this just broke?” Phichit nodded as Yuuri finally snatched his phone out of the younger man’s grasp. “Gee, if only we knew someone who worked for a sports news site…”

 

Phichit grinned, understanding dawning as he watched Yuuri pull up a number on his screen.

 

 

**Early Afternoon, April 2 nd, 2021, Geneva**

 

“Darling, I love you, but either answer your phone or turn it off? Please?”

 

Christophe leaned back from his desk, running a tired hand through his shaggy curls. Masumi dropped the offending device onto the flat surface, pausing to press a fond kiss against his fiancé’s forehead.

 

“Sorry, _mon amour_ , I know it’s annoying, but there _are_ actually a few people I’m willing to talk to today and I need to know if they call.”

 

Masumi heaved a long-suffering sigh, but desisted, turning back to the book he’d been reading. Chris absently flipped through the missed calls and text notifications, grimacing. He’d tried to warn Victor at Worlds, but the stubborn man never would listen and now the wolves were at the gate. The phone vibrated in his hand and he nearly declined the call before recognizing the name on the screen.

 

“Yuuri! Darling! I rather expected I’d be hearing from you, but it can’t be much past dawn for you…”

 

“Ah, hi Chris. Yeah, Phichit woke me up. Apparently, he has emergency alarms set in case figure skating is trending in the news.”

 

Christophe blinked, nonplussed. “Ah, _oui_ , doesn’t everyone?”

 

Yuuri sighed. Why were all of his friends like this? “Annnyways. I was hoping you might have more information? I don’t want to bother Vitya or Yura right now, I have a feeling they’re in the thick of things in St. Petersburg, but…”

 

Chris nodded. “Yes, forewarned is forearmed. From what I’ve heard through the NBC lines, a memo stating that Victor was being placed on probation was sent to the ISU out of St. Petersburg this morning. It came directly from the St. Petersburg Skating Federation, _not_ the main body of the FFKK. The same memo was later leaked to IFS Magazine’s online division, as well as to ESPN and NBCSports. Hisashi called me a couple hours ago, said Sports Asahi also received the memo, so it’s been spread pretty broadly.”

 

“Victor hasn’t broken any ISU rules, so probation from a local skating body wouldn’t affect his ISU credentials. What are they hoping to gain here?” Yuuri sounded worried and Christophe felt a pang of pity for the younger man.

 

“Control, darling. Your presence and your continued success threaten their control over Victor and therefore over Mila and Yuri. Probably over Ivanov as well, though I don’t really know the boy.”

 

“Dammit. This is because of Worlds,” Yuuri spat. “Because Yura fell.”

 

“Mmmm, because Yura _lost_ ,” Chris corrected. “And likely because of the press conference after the medal ceremony.”

 

“Ah, _shimatta_. I knew that would come back to bite us all in the ass.”

 

“Mmmm, well, our angry kitten _does_ have a way of riling up a crowd…”

 

 

**Late Afternoon, April 2 nd, 2021, St. Petersburg**

 

_“Skater Plisetsky, are you disappointed with your back-to-back losses at the Grand Prix Final and here at the World Championship?”_

 

_The blond bristled as both Phichit and Yuuri glanced at him in concern._

 

_“Tcha. Do you people even know how this sport works? I didn’t lose. I medaled at both competitions after giving the best performance I was capable of!”_

 

_“So, you’re saying third place was the best you were capable of this weekend?”_

 

_“Don’t put words in my mouth! I knew Katsuki’s score was impossible to surpass with my planned program, so I attempted a jump I’ve been working on with my coach. I fell. It happens. If Katsuki had fallen, we’d be having a very different conversation, now wouldn’t we? You gave me flack for NOT attempting a harder jump composition at the Final, now I get flack for attempting it at Worlds. Jesus, I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t with you assholes!”_

 

 _Phichit leaned forward at this point, trying to deflect the offended media crowd. “Ah, if anybody wants to talk about my very first silver medal at Worlds, I would be_ thrilled _to give you very charmingly detailed responses!”_

 

The recording shut off and Councilman Mishin leaned back from the laptop, refusing to meet the icy blue eyes across the desk. Victor sat coolly, hands steepled as he waited for the older man to speak. After the morning he’d had, he had no desire to make things easier for the FFKK representative.

 

“This sort of behavior from your skater, coupled with a less than ideal podium result… I’m sure you must understand our position, Victor,” Mishin offered, tentatively.

 

“Coach Nikiforov. Please. I’m sure you understand the importance of titles, _Councilman_ ,” Victor’s voice was soft, his swift grin as sharp as a knife. Mishin barely suppressed a shudder.

 

“Ah… Coach Nikiforov. While Team Russia’s overall performance at Worlds was acceptable…”

 

“My skaters alone earned Russia three Olympic spots for men’s AND women’s singles. I have been told _repeatedly_ that the FFKK has their eyes on Beijing. In what way, _precisely,_ have I failed in working towards that goal?”

 

Mishin winced, deeply regretting agreeing to handle this disciplinary meeting. “Coach Nikiforov…”

 

“No! I did not _ask_ for this position, but I have done _everything_ that has been asked of me, _except_ give up my personal happiness! I am not secretly coaching Yuuri Katsuki. I have not touched his programs or his training regimen in nearly two years! When I _did_ coach him, I was not the Head Coach of this Skate Club, so I breached no FFKK contracts.”

 

“Coach Nikiforov, as I have repeatedly stated, this is merely a probationary period pending review of your training techniques by a qualified panel of coaches.”

 

“A probation you shared with the ISU and the news before giving me the courtesy of a warning!” Victor was half out of his chair at this point, voice steadily rising. The door swung open behind Mishin’s shoulder as Victor continued. “And we both know damned well who’s behind this little game, did she send you off to do her dirty work or did you _volunteer?”_

 

 _“VITYA._ That is enough. Sit. Down.” Yakov stood in the doorway, Georgi hovering anxiously behind him. Victor sat, his eyes glittering with rage.

 

“Boris,” Yakov greeted the Councilman with a curt nod of his head.

 

“Yakov.”

 

“It’s odd. I had not realized that a trio of top ten finishes at Worlds now warranted official sanctioning. I must admit that I’m relieved such policies weren’t in place in my coaching days.” Yakov spoke lightly, but his gaze never left Councilman Mishin’s face. “Nor was I aware that sanctions were now publicly announced prior to informing the recipient of said sanctions.” Mishin flushed at the dryly sarcastic tone, glancing quickly in Victor’s direction.

 

Georgi had moved behind his friend and was whispering urgently in his ear as the older men spoke, repeatedly pointing in the direction of Victor’s long silenced phone. He picked it up, one eye still on Mishin, who was now arguing with Yakov in hushed tones. Flipping it on, he was slightly dismayed by the number of notifications lighting up the screen. He ignored most of them, pulling up the most important contact and smiling softly at the multiple messages, several of which consisted solely of long lines of hearts. He’d read them later, when he could focus. In the meantime, he pulled up the social media app that Georgi had been urging him to read. His eyes widened.

 

“… foolishly precipitous actions have _consequences_ Boris.” Victor tuned back into the heated conversation on the other side of the desk. “You fail to understand the level of backlash you have opened yourself and the FFKK up to with this vendetta of yours.”  

 

 _#IstandwithVictor_ was trending on Instagram. Victor clicked into a different app. On Twitter too. He scrolled through the posts. Dozens of figure skating’s brightest were sharing the tag. Skaters, ex-skaters, coaches… _media_. And leading the charge, furiously retweeting every encouraging post were Yuuri, Phichit, Christophe and Yura. He pulled a shaking hand to his face, stunned to find it wet with tears. Georgi squeezed his shoulder.

 

“We’re with you Vitya,” he whispered in the Head Coach’s ear.

 

Mishin looked horrified, staring at his own screen as Victor stood, unsteadily moving to stand next to Yakov. The retired coach raised a gnarled hand to pat his protege’s shoulder, then turned back to the FFKK official. “Of course, several of the St. Petersburg Club’s top Olympic hopefuls have already spoken to me. It seems, unfortunately, that they refuse to accept anyone other than Victor as their coach. A problem, but you know how young people can be.”

 

Victor steadied himself, allowing the sudden change in his emotion to drain away before addressing Councilman Mishin. “Please inform Chairwoman Rubina that I am more than happy to submit to _evaluation_. After my scheduled time off to celebrate my _husband's_ graduation, of course.” His tone was genial, but his eyes glinted dangerously, daring the man to object.

 

“I’ll… I’ll have to discuss this with the rest of the Council, of… of course,” Mishin stammered, flustered at the turning of the tables. “Good day, gentlemen.”

 

The trio stood aside as the man made a hasty exit, three pairs of pale eyes following his fleeing figure. Victor slumped, drawing Yakov into a shaky hug as the door closed.

 

“ _Thank you,_ ” he breathed, half chuckling as his old mentor awkwardly patted his back.

 

“They are in the wrong here, Vitya. I do not take kindly to foolish egos tampering with my Club.”

 

“Of course, Yakov,” Victor said teasingly as he stood, turning to face his friend, offering his hand. “Georgi, I couldn’t ask for a better Assistant Coach. I need a few minutes to call my husband. Can I ask you to please get the Junior ladies started on their spin practice? I’ll be out shortly.” Georgi squeezed his hand, smiling softly.

 

“Take your time,” he said warmly before exiting. Yakov followed him out, nodding in Victor’s direction.

 

Victor waited until the door swung shut before pulling up the beloved number on his phone and pressing the call button.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy November! I just got back from visiting my lovely fanfic pal, Magrathea. We did Halloween in Salem and binged some YoI! For those of you waiting on her next chapter of The Shortest Days, she says hello and promises she's working on it! If you haven't read it, go! Do! Read! So good!
> 
> Up Next: Graduation Day and Hasetsu visits!


	11. April 2021, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Graduation Day! 
> 
> Enjoy a whole bunch of fluff!

**April 12 th, 2021, Detroit**

 

“Congratulations, Yuuri,” Dr. Curtis was saying as she shook his hand. And surely this was all a dream, but the rest of his committee members were standing too, shaking his hand and offering their own congratulations as they filed out of the small room. “All that’s left is a handful of edits and submitting for publication if you choose, both of which you can do from home if you promise to keep me in the loop on your progress. Well done, Mr. Katsuki. It’s been a pleasure working with you.” She grinned up at him as she scrawled her signature across the thesis approval sheet, the final piece Yuuri needed to submit before graduating in two weeks. He felt as if an enormous weight had suddenly lifted.

 

He'd done it. He’d somehow managed a Master’s degree while maintaining a competitive athletic career. In less than a year that career would end, but he felt as if the piece of paper clutched in his hand promised him a world of options after his _first_ retirement. Dr. Curtis put her arm around his shoulders, nudging him towards the door. “I’ll let you be the first to share the good news,” she said pointedly, nudging open the door. His committee members lingered in the waiting area, partaking in the traditional post-thesis presentation refreshments offered by the department. And there, standing to one side with nearly identical expressions of nervous excitement stood his best friend and husband.

 

“Well!?” Phichit practically shrieked. Dr. Curtis patted his back as she pushed him forward.

 

“I… I did it! I passed,” Yuuri said blushingly, pulling the precious paper out of harm’s way as both men leapt forward to embrace him.

 

“I’m so proud of you my Yuuri! Your talk was magnificent! So smart!” Victor crooned in one ear, Phichit’s high squeal in the other. He reveled in the affection, for one glorious moment letting all of the challenges still to come fade from his thoughts.

 

***

 

Waking up the next morning was an incremental achievement, his brain slow to catch up to the fact that his eyes had blinked open. And oh, _ow_. Maybe his brain could have stayed asleep if it would have prevented the previous evening’s indulgences from catching up quite so painfully.

 

“Rough morning, _lyubov moya?_ ” Ugh. Chipper Russians with unfairly high alcohol tolerances. He glared up at his spouse, who merely smiled serenely, dropping a chaste kiss on his lips. “No pouting. I brought water and pain killers. You have to be nice to get them!” Yuuri narrowed his eyes but refrained from grumbling as Victor dropped the pills into his hand.

 

“ _You_ should be nice. You and Phichit are the ones who insisted on shots last night.” He’s not pouting. Really, he isn’t.

 

“We had so much to celebrate Yuuri! You’re graduating in two weeks, we’re going back to Hasetsu, you’re a five-time World Champion…” Victor’s smile was radiant and Yuuri felt his temper soften.

 

“Ugh, come here gorgeous.”

 

“Yuuri! So sweet!” Victor crooned as he octopused around Yuuri’s side, hindering his attempt to drink the bottle of water. And yes, okay, it’s a little annoying and Victor can occasionally be ridiculous, but damn if it doesn’t feel good to be able to enjoy the ridiculousness again. He smiled softly at the silver haired beauty, leaning over to catch the slim lips in another brief kiss, morning breath and hangover be damned. He was rewarded with a blindingly radiant smile before Victor pulled back to glance around the room in contemplation.

 

“Mmmmm, as much as I want to stay in bed the rest of the day, we have work to do _solnyshko._ ”

 

Yuuri sighed in agreement, the half-packed boxes staring at him accusingly. There were less than two weeks until graduation and, with it, his eminent departure from Detroit. Still, he couldn’t help aiming a glare in the direction of the hapless cardboard. Beside him, Victor shifted slightly.

 

“You… you aren’t having second thoughts, are you?” The question was timid, as if the Russian feared the answer. Yuuri turned to him, cinnamon eyes wide with concern.

 

“Vitya! No! Why would you think that?”

 

Victor slumped, expression contrite. “Sorry. That was… sorry. It’s just, with everything going on in St. Petersburg and with this being an Olympic year.” He hesitated before plunging on. “I just… I worry that you think it’d be easier to stay here to finish out your last season. Not deal with my drama. I’d… I’d understand, love. I would…” The last was said in a rush, as if he were ripping a band-aid off a wound.

 

Yuuri cupped his hand around the pointed chin, pulling Victor’s face up until their eyes met. “Listen to me Victor Nikiforov. We spent a year and a half apart because we couldn’t _talk_ to each other. I’m not going back to that. I know _you_ don’t want to go back to that. We are in this together. Where you go, I’m going too. If that means we have to say screw it to the FFKK, then I’m ready for that battle. I’m not ready to retire, and you know damned well that Yuri and Mila and Alexei aren’t going to let you out of coaching them. Natalie’s got her visa, so let’s take St. Petersburg by storm.”

 

Victor’s eyes burned as he gazed down adoringly at his husband. “Goddamn do I love you Katsuki Yuuri,” he murmured before capturing the younger man in a searing kiss, his hands gripping tightly at the plush hips beneath the sheets.

 

“Thought we needed to get back to packing,” Yuuri teased.

 

“It can wait.”

 

**April 23 rd, 2021, Detroit**

“Okay, that’s the last of it. Just clothes for the next couple of days and toiletries left,” Yuuri said with satisfaction as he zipped the heavy suitcase. Victor smiled at him happily, absent-mindedly stroking the grey hamster Phichit had deposited on his head in a fit of whimsy before leaving the apartment.

 

“Ready for dinner then, love?” He queried from his seat on the air mattress, Yuuri’s bed having finally sold via some questionable online ad. The Japanese skater smiled in his direction before walking over to confiscate the ball of fuzz for a quick cuddle.

 

“Mmmm, we’re meeting Phichit there?”

 

“ _Da_ ,” Victor responded nonchalantly. “He had some errands to run, just need to make sure that little guy gets back to its cage safely.”

 

“Fair enough,” Yuuri said, walking down the short hall to Phichit’s mostly empty room to plop the critter into the cage with its siblings. “But the ceremony starts at 9 tomorrow morning, so we can’t stay out drinking, Vitya.” His tone held a teasing warning and Victor smirked back at him.

 

“ _Fair enough_ ,” he mimicked, holding out a hand for his husband’s. In sync, they flipped out the apartment lights as they left, heading towards Yuuri’s car. Which… “What are you doing with the car, love?”

 

“Mmmm, Celestino’s nephew just turned 16, so he’s buying it as a gift for him. He’ll pick up the keys before we leave for the airport on Monday.”

 

“Buying it? Or did you _give_ it to him?” Victor asked, allowing a hint of sly tease to creep into his voice.

 

Yuuri glared at him over the hood of the car. “ _Buying_.” Then he relented. “Mostly. I mean, I got it for cheap and I owe him for so much, so…” Victor couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out as he slid into the passenger seat. “Annnnyway,” Yuuri continued, flashing him a glance of amused exasperation. “Food. Then sleep. I have to be up in the morning. You… you’re going to come watch, right?”

 

Victor sends him a reciprocal exasperated look. “No darling, I flew here from Russia, helped you pack, but I think I’ll just go ahead and sleep in tomorrow. You won’t mind, right?” And oh, isn’t that bright blush on Yuuri’s cheeks absolutely _glorious_?

 

“Shut up,” Yuuri muttered. “I changed my mind. I don’t actually like you after all.”

 

Victor gasped in mock affront. “Yuuri, I… I don’t know how you can say something like that after everything we’ve been through!”

 

Panicked cinnamon eyes flashed away from the road for a minute, before snapping back to the front window.

 

“Ah. Teasing. Right. _Stupid gorgeous jerk_.” The Japanese skater muttered, the flush on his cheeks spreading down to his neck.

 

Victor couldn’t help the smirk as they continued down the road. Rubina and her cronies be damned. He was definitely not letting this chance at happiness slip from his grasp. The restaurant came into view and Yuuri pulled off the road and into the crowded parking lot.

 

“Mmmm, good thing Phichit went ahead of us. I guess there’s probably a lot of people in town for graduation,” Yuuri mused absently as he slipped into a vacant space. Arm in arm, they made their way into the restaurant, craning their heads for a glimpse of the Thai skater.

 

Yuuri’s gasp of joyful recognition drew Victor’s satisfied attention, as his husband spotted the surprise he and Phichit had planned. Rising from the circular booth, Mari and Minako greeted the raven topped figure as he crashed into them, shock and joy etched into his features.

 

 

**April 24 th, 2021, Detroit**

 

“So, he’s forgiven you then?” Victor shifted uncomfortably in the hard, plastic seat, turning to meet Mari Katsuki’s searching gaze. “After everything?”

 

The discomfort of the chair forgotten, Victor found himself fidgeting for a different reason. “You know, he told me _you_ suggested he fly to St. Petersburg for New Year’s,” he managed to choke out. She raised a cool brow in his direction before nodding grudgingly.

 

“I did. Seemed like you were making an effort to reach out.” She shrugged, facing back towards the commencement stage. “Thank you for flying us out. But don’t think I’ve forgotten anything, Nikiforov. He’s my baby brother. He deserves the world. He wants _you_. So… just… just don’t fuck this up.” She grated the last words before hunching in her seat. “ _Please_ don’t fuck this up,” she practically whispered.

 

Victors heart unclenched as he ducked his head. “I don’t plan to, Mari, I swear. I love him. I have no intentions of screwing this up.” 

 

She nodded, stoic once again as she stared intently at the creeping line of men and women clad in dark gowns, velvet stripes lining their draping sleeves as they away their long anticipated Master’s degrees. Her sharp eyes pick out Yuuri’s slender figure at the same time as Victor’s, both of their faces melting in happiness. Minako and Phichit leaned forward in their own seats, mirroring their eager poses. All four leapt to their feet in glee when Yuuri’s name was finally called, his face burning with a mix of happiness and embarrassment visible even from their distant seats.

 

Victor’s heart burned with joy and pride as he watched the love of his life accept the physical proof of his latest achievement. Tonight and tomorrow, they would celebrate and then…

 

And then for the first time in more than two years, they’d be together back in Hasetsu, where everything had truly begun.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you haven't seen it yet, I updated Tales From a Frozen Kingdom with a new Tale covering the all-night conversation from Worlds! Click on the 'next work' button and take a look!
> 
> ALSO! CyberSkeith is absolutely amazing and commissioned CrimsonChains for a STUNNING rendition of Phichit's pivotal Instagram post from Chapter 4 of Once and Future Kings as the sweetest surprise for me... I literally cried. Thank you SO MUCH CS! You can view the stunning work on CrimsonChains tumblr [Here!](https://crimson-chains.tumblr.com/post/180017881409/commission-for-skatinggameryk-d-from-a-fanfic)


	12. April 2021, Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worries linger as Victuuri returns to Hasetsu.

**April 26 th, 2021, Detroit Metropolitan Airport**

Phichit was sniffling into Yuuri’s neck. “... And this better not be like the last time you moved out!”

 

“Ah, well, I’d like to think this is a _little_ different than the last time I moved out, Peach.” Yuuri said, running his hand up his best friend’s back comfortingly.

 

The Thai skater pulled back enough to glare up at him. “Yeah well, _this_ time I will come hunt you down if you refuse to answer my calls for six months!”

 

“I promise! I’ll answer your calls! I’m not running away from anything this time!” Glancing over to where Victor stood, chatting quietly with Celestino and Natalie, Yuuri made a silent vow. No more running.

 

Yuuri pulled out of Phichit’s embrace in time for Celestino to clap Victor cheerfully on the back before making his way over to the two skaters.

 

“Celestino, I… I don’t know how to thank you for everything you’ve done for me over the years,” Yuuri said earnestly, feeling tears prick the corners of his eyes.

 

“Ahhh, Yuuri. No, no, this is not a goodbye. This is just a new chapter in our journey together, yes?” The burly Italian boomed. “You will send me video while you are in Japan, yes?” Yuuri nodded. “And when you get to St. Petersburg, Natalie has her instructions. You are still my student, dear boy. I expect you to maintain your training and continue to make me proud.” He pulled the young man into a rough embrace, then turned back to where Natalie and Victor were still chatting.

 

“Natalie will be leaving for St. Petersburg in two weeks. Your Victor has arranged for his assistant coaches to help her get settled in so that she is ready once you return.” Natalie smiled in Yuuri’s direction.

 

“Yep!” She chirped. “Georgi is picking me up from the airport and he and Katya will show me around! Mila had a spare room, so I’ll be staying with her for now!” Yuuri shook his head at the thought of the two mischievous redheads living together.

 

“Sounds like we’re all set then,” he said, feeling a lump form in his throat. Detroit had been a haven for him when he had fled St. Petersburg. He was happy to be heading back but still… he was leaving some of the people he loved most behind.

 

Phichit draped himself over Yuuri’s back. “No crying Katsuki. This is a good thing, remember? I expect to see you during the Grand Prix series in a few months. No slacking!” Yuuri laughed wetly, turning for one last hug before he moved to stand with Mari and Minako. Victor shook Celestino’s hand solemnly, then waved to Natalie and Phichit before joining the Japanese trio.

 

“All set then?” Minako hummed. “Good. The sooner we get through security, the sooner we can get into the lounge.”

 

Mari laughed dryly. “I’d point out that it isn’t even noon, but I have a feeling that wouldn’t really matter.”

 

Minako sniffed, leading the way to the pre-check security lane. “Katsuki Mari, don’t act as if you aren’t planning on joining me. I know _I_ need _copious_ amounts of alcohol to handle a second full day of travel in less than a week.”

 

Yuuri blushed. “I hope it wasn’t too much trouble… it really was nice to have you all at the ceremony…” Minako draped herself over his back as they crept through the line.

 

“Yuuri! Of course, we came! I’m just whining. Besides,” she quirked a thumb in Victor’s direction. “Tall, pale and handsome over there footed most of the bill, so I’m not complaining.” Victor smiled wanly at them before glancing back down at his phone. “How’s he doing, by the way?” Minako asked in an undertone.

 

After making sure his husband was absorbed in his phone, Yuuri replied, speaking quietly. “He’s putting a cheerful face on everything, but I can tell he’s worried. He’s got a strong position of international support, but the Russian Skating Federation won’t take kindly to losing control of the narrative surrounding his probation.”

 

Mari frowned back at him. “Can’t imagine him wandering off to Detroit and Japan is going to make them much happier.” Yuuri shrugged.

 

“No, probably not, but it’s the off-season. The Club’s down to a skeleton crew for the next month or so anyway, so it’s not like they can really accuse him of shirking his duties. They won’t like the fact that he’s with me, but we’ve made it clear that our relationship is non-negotiable.” Grim determination slipped into his voice and both Minako and Mari raised their eyebrows at that edge of steel.

 

“Alright little brother. We’re with you, just let us know if we need to help you bury any bodies,” she deadpanned. Yuuri glanced around in a panic, suddenly very grateful that the TSA was unlikely to have any Japanese speakers stationed nearby.

 

***

 

The hum of the engines was practically the only sound when Yuuri awoke from a long doze, grateful for the lay-flat seats in First Class. Sometimes his husband’s tendency towards extravagance paid off. Speaking of which…

 

“ _Ohayo,_ love,” he murmured, moving his seat back up into sitting position. Victor smiled over from where he’d been glancing through the in-flight magazine, his hand wrapped around a glass. Yuuri glanced at it briefly. “Vodka nightcap?” Victor shook his head.

 

“Hibiki. I haven’t had it in a long time, it seemed appropriate. Want one?” Yuuri smiled an agreement as the Russian moved to press the call button. He glanced around, spying Minako slumped in her seat, Mari reading a book beside her, headphones firmly in her ears. A murmur passed through the air, and then Victor was handing him a glass, tapping his own against it in a silent toast. Yuuri sipped, savoring the flavor for a moment before turning to lean his head against the broad shoulder next to him.

 

“How are you doing, love?” Victor looked startled at the question, then seemed to take a moment to think about his answer.

 

“Excited, mostly, I think. It’s been a long time since I’ve been back to Hasetsu and I’ve missed it.” His blue eyes were distant in the dim lighting as he continued. “Nervous, a bit. A lot’s happened since I last visited, and I worry how people are going to react… I _hurt_ you and it’s your hometown. You’ve forgiven me but…”

 

“Nobody’s going to come after you, Vitya. _Oka-san_ and _Oto-san_ missed you, they’re thrilled about, well, about _us_. Yuuko and Takeshi might give you a hard time, but the triplets will be over the moon.”

 

Victor brightened a bit. “I’ll get to see our godson again! He’s so big now!”

 

Yuuri nodded, a smile crossing his face. “He is. I was there last July, but he’s almost four now and they have him in puddle duck classes at the rink. He finally grew into the skates you got him for his last birthday, we’ll have to go watch one day.” 

 

The silver-blond flashed him a happy grin as he took another sip of his whisky. Then something seemed to occur to him. He carefully settled the glass before turning sober eyes in Yuuri’s direction. “You know I’d love to come see him skate. And… and I’d like to watch your practices, but…”

 

Yuuri pursed his lips, knowing what his husband was alluding to. “Yeah, the FFKK’ll be sniffing around for any hint that you’re helping with my training.” He grinned reassuringly. “Just remember, Hasetsu is _my_ territory. We’ll lay low for a few days, enjoy the hot springs, I’ll take a couple of obviously solo trips to the rink while you go drink with Minako and the media’ll get bored. Yuuko and Takeshi have already set it up so that we can use the rink after hours and the triplets have sworn on the promise of new iPhones not to post any images or videos of us at the Ice Castle.

 

Victor slumped in relief. “You’ve thought this through, huh love?”

 

He jutted his chin out stubbornly. “Yep. I’m not letting anything ruin my first vacation with you in _years_. I have _plans_ Victor Nikiforov.”

 

Victor laughed in delight, swooping down to press an exuberant kiss against Yuuri’s cheek. “Thank you, _lyubov moya._ ”

 

 

**April 28 th, 2021, Hasetsu**

 

Victor offered his arm to Minako as she stumbled blearily up the pathway to Yu-topia Katsuki, the time change and long day of travel catching up to her. He felt wide awake as he glanced around the familiar setting, thinking how different this arrival was from the first time he’d walked through these gates. Yuuri walked ahead of them with Mari, laden with bags as the travel weary quartet reached the doors to the family entrance.

 

The homey clatter of dishes and the scent of fish and rice brought a lump to Victor’s throat as Mari called a greeting down the hallway. A patter of slipper clad feet heralded Hiroko’s arrival and Victor instinctively shrunk into the background, not wanting to interrupt the family greeting. He felt rather than saw Minako’s contemplative side-eye but ignored it.

 

“ _Tadaima, oka-san,_ ” Yuuri greeted, offering his mother a respectful bow before shyly handing her the leather folder holding his Master’s degree. She clutched it briefly to her chest in reverence, then passed it to Mari before folding her son into a tearful embrace.

 

“I am so _proud_ of you, Yuu-chan,” she whispered after a long moment. Yuuri flushed in happiness, before gently pulling away.

 

“I’ve brought someone to see you, _Oka-san_ ,” he murmured, turning back to offer a hand in Victor’s direction. He tentatively stepped forward, taking the slim hand in his own before giving a deep bow to his mother-in-law.

 

“It’s good to see you again, Hiroko- _san_ ,” he said politely, eyes still on the floor. Gentle hands on his shoulders nudged him back into a standing position as Hiroko gazed at him knowingly.

 

“When did you stop calling me mama, Vic-chan?” She said, a gentle rebuke in her soft voice.

 

Victor chanced a peek at his husband, but the younger man had stepped back to stand with Mari and Minako, allowing the pair some privacy. He swallowed, looking down again. “I… I wasn’t sure you would still want me to… after, after everything…” he admitted. He’d never been able to keep anything from the older woman; she’d always seen right through him.

 

She cupped his chin in a warm hand, pulling his eyes back up to her face. “You have _always_ been my silver-haired boy, long before you married my first son. And I will always be your mama. You just got a little bit lost is all, but you are home again now.”

 

Victor’s face crumpled as he let her pull him into her arms. Warm pressure on his back and a soft kiss in his hair let him know that Yuuri had joined them. He let himself relax in their arms and for the first time in a very long time, Victor felt as if everything was going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this marks the halfway point of this fic! 
> 
> This chapter and the next are a bit of an interlude, then we'll be on to the final showdown with Rubina in the next 5 chapter arc. 
> 
> The final six chapters cover Yuuri's final competitive season, concluding, of course, with the Olympics. 
> 
> Thank you for traveling with me this far, I hope you enjoy the rest of the journey!


	13. Hasetsu Interlude, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things start off steamy, but soon turn icy...

**April 28** **th** **– 29** **th** **, 2021, Hasetsu**

 

A brief mid-afternoon nap eased some of the exhaustion of the long trip, but by the time Yuuri had greeted what felt like the hundredth Hasetsu resident, he was ready to collapse back onto the low table. Mari grinned down at him in sympathy, rustling a hand through his unruly locks. “Don’t worry, little brother, they just want to see your latest medal and catch a glimpse of our resident Russian here,” she said teasingly, hooking a thumb in Victor’s direction. The tall man stuck out amongst the guests, his fair hair shining like a beacon as he spoke earnestly to a cluster of older men who remembered him from previous stays. “It’ll be fine, you’ll be old news again in a day or two.”

 

“It’s getting late,  _ nee-chan _ , why are they still here?” he whined, abandoning the table to slump forlornly against his sister. Minako dropped a bottle of sake and a handful of small cups onto the table, easing herself down to join the siblings with a smile. Mari poked him until he sat up begrudgingly, reaching over to accept the cup his former mentor offered him.

 

“Victor seems to be holding up well,” Minako mused out loud after they’d all taken a drink. Yuuri narrowed his eyes, watching his husband carefully before shaking his head in disagreement. Minako raised a brow in question.

 

“He’s got his press smile on,” Yuuri pointed out, debating whether or not he needed to go rescue the older man. Both women nodded after a moment; years of lectures regarding Victor’s smiles, real and fake, aiding in their quick agreement. Yuuri moved to push himself up from the table but was halted by Mari’s firm hand on his shoulder.

 

“Wait,” she insisted. He settled back down, nervously spinning his refilled glass. As he watched, Toshiya and Hiroko joined the cluster surrounding Victor, smiling and bowing politely as they spoke. Soon, the last lingering guests were offering bows of their own as they filed out of the room, heading towards the door as Toshiya followed. After watching for a moment, Hiroko turned and patted Victor’s cheek before leading the tall man back to the table where he immediately wrapped himself around Yuuri’s back, accepting the sake when it was offered.

 

Hiroko gazed down at them fondly for a moment, then began making shoo-ing motions with her hands. “You boys should get cleaned up and go bathe. You both deserve a long soak.” Yuuri smiled gratefully at his mother, rising smoothly to his feet to kiss her cheek before turning back to help his husband stand. Victor stooped to add his own kiss, then echoed Yuuri’s quiet ‘goodnight’ as they slipped from the room.

 

“Go ahead, love, I’m just going to say our goodnights to  _ oto-san  _ before I join you.” Victor murmured a sleepy agreement, leaning down to press a light kiss to the upturned lips before treading the familiar path to the baths. Yuuri smiled as he watched the retreating figure, a surge of happiness filling him at the sight of his lover back in this familiar space. A worn hand on his shoulder broke his reverie and he turned to see his father also watching Victor, a tiny frown on his face.

 

_ “Oto-san,” _ he started nervously, stopping when the hand on his shoulder gave a gentle squeeze.

 

“No, Yuuri, I do not need explanations. I’m not quite as blind as I may look. That young man is terribly nervous around us still, but I think that he loves you very much. If you have forgiven him, that is enough for me to know.” He patted Yuuri’s shoulder, then gave him a gentle nudge. “Go. The hot springs are very romantic at night, you know.” Yuuri blushed but offered a farewell bow before following the long hall to the baths.

 

A long scrub washed away the lingering grit from their long trip, and soon he made his way out to the hot spring, the haze of steam and the moonlight casting an unearthly glow over Victor’s silver hair and broad, beautifully muscled back. He swallowed, dropping his towel as he moved to the steps leading down to the pool. He paused, gaze lingering on the older man’s peaceful form.

 

“See something you like?” Victor finally asked, a teasing smirk playing around his lips as he turned to catch Yuuri’s eyes.

 

“Hmmmm, nope,” Yuuri murmured nonchalantly, shaking his head as he dipped his first foot into the hot springs. A flash of hurt crossed Victor’s face and Yuuri made quick work of his descent into the water, cuddling soothingly against the other man’s side. “Silly man,” he spoke into the quiet of the warm night air. “I see someone I  _ love _ .” He smiled as the damp silver head flopped onto his shoulder, relaxing into the combined warmth of the water and his lover at his side. Lost in the soothing sensations, it took him a moment to realize Victor’s shoulders were shaking. Glancing down in concern, he noticed the steady trickle of tears that the water had disguised.

 

“Oh, sweetheart, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to make you cry! Shit, shit, Vitya, I’m sorry! I was trying to flirt but I’m so  _ bad _ at flirting and I’m sorry!” Yuuri was babbling in his panic, desperately struggling to wipe the tears from his husband’s eyes.

 

Victor batted his hands away, shaking his head fondly before silencing Yuuri with a searing kiss. Pulling away, he laughed breathlessly, gazing up at the sky for a long moment before smiling back down. “I’m not upset, Yuuri. I’m… I’m  _ happy _ . Being back here, with  _ you _ . God, I’m so  _ happy _ .” His smile turned incandescent and Yuuri felt his breath hitch at the blinding beauty of it before his lips were recaptured,Victor moving to practically sit in his lap as they embraced. After a few moments, his body reminded him that the man in his arms was very, very lovely and that they were both very, very naked.

 

A glance at their surroundings reminded him that they were also very, very much sitting in the middle of his parents’ primary source of income.

 

He pulled away with a tiny gasp, leaning down to place his forehead against his husband’s chest. “Maybe we should take this upstairs?” He hinted, gazing up through his thick lashes. Blue eyes, nearly black with need, peered down at him before Victor pulled them both to their feet, chuckling wryly.

 

“Trying to get me into your bed,  _ dorogoy?” _ The Russian purred teasingly as he handed Yuuri a dry towel.

 

“ _ Abso-fucking-lutely _ ,” Yuuri swore fervently, reveling in Victor’s delighted laugh as they stumbled back into the main house, barely pausing to don their jinbei. In their eager rush, neither man spotted the two dark heads sitting together in the dimly lit dining room.

 

Minako leaned her head against her oldest friend’s shoulder as both of them held in their laughter. “Ah, to be young and in love,” she sighed, raising her glass in salute. Hiroko smiled softly, sipping her sake, a warm feeling of contentment easing an old ache within her heart. She knew it wasn’t for long, but at long last, her entire family was all back together under her roof.

 

“ _ Kintsugi, _ ” she murmured, nodding to herself. Her boys would be stronger, their love more precious, for all of the cracks they had worked so hard to repair. 

 

**May 5** **th** **, 2021, Hasetsu**

 

Victor watched curiously as Yuuri peered out through the curtains of their banquet room turned bedroom. After a few minutes, the younger man’s shoulders slumped in relief and Yuuri smiled back at him. “They’ve finally given up,” he said gleefully as he plopped back down to the bed, cuddling back into Victor’s arms.

 

“No more reporters or photographers?” Victor couldn’t help the excitement in his voice. They’d been trailed relentlessly for the last week, hundreds of images and sound-bytes hitting the internet. But, he thought smugly to himself, not  _ one  _ of those photos showed him anywhere near an ice rink. Yuuri had made the trip by himself each morning, leaving Victor to take a gentle jog and then either shadow Mari or Minako about town or lounge about the onsen, trying to help but mostly getting in Hiroko or Toshiya’s way. Yuuri would rescue him after lunch and they’d spend the rest of the day reacquainting themselves with their old haunts, taking the time to reconnect that they’d so desperately been needing. Now though…

 

“Does that mean I can go back to the rink?” Victor asked eagerly as Yuuri laughed happily.

 

“I think so. We should probably stick to the routine for this morning, but if everything seems all clear, we’ll sneak back to the rink after it closes tonight.” 

 

*** 

 

True to his word, Yuuri handed Victor his skate bag after dark settled around the streets of Hasetsu. Mari laughed at the Russian’s eager expression, but he knew Yuuri understood his need to get his feet back on the ice. Even now, long retired from competitions, he spent most of his days surrounded by the crisp air and cold perfection of the rink. The morning jog wasn’t nearly enough to burn off his energy – he needed to  _ skate. _

 

They made their way through the winding streets, crossing the bridge that led to the Ice Castle. Victor grinned at the celebratory banners decorating the side of the building, boldly proclaiming Yuuri’s successes for all of Hasetsu to see. “Congratulations 5-Time World Champion, Katsuki Yuuri,” he read out loud slowly, stumbling slightly over the kanji. He was rewarded with a brilliant blush as Yuuri ducked his head. He nudged the shorter man with his shoulder. “Your hometown is proud of you love. As they should be.” Another nudge, drawing those wide cinnamon eyes back to him. “I’m proud of you too, you know.” Yuuri’s eyes practically glowed at the compliment before the raven hair dipped again in shy embarrassment.

 

Soon they reached the broad steps, Victor following as Yuuri made for a side entrance and slipped inside. The sound of blades on the ice startled the Russian and he glanced down in question. Yuuri shook his head.

 

“Oh, nonono, it’s just the Nishigoris. The rink is closed to the public, but, well, they wanted to say hello.” Victor nodded in understanding, trying to ignore the tiny pit of unease pooling in his stomach. He hadn’t seen any of the family since they’d arrived nearly a week ago, and though Yuuri assured him it was merely because they wanted to give him time to settle back in, he couldn’t help but feel as if they were avoiding him. Reaching the end of the employee hallway, the rink came into view, a trio of pre-teened girls twirling on it as their slender mother called directions. Victor smiled at the sight. He’d missed Yuuko and her precocious triplets.

 

“Ah, finally out of hiding, eh Victor?” A heavy hand landed on his back and he couldn’t help the tiny, startled jump.

 

“Takeshi,” he said faintly, turning to face the burly man. Drawn by their father’s voice, Axel, Lutz and Loop made their way to the side of the rink, clamoring for attention as they spotted their old playmate. Catching Yuuri’s reassuring grin, he moved to lean over the boards, greeting the girls as Yuuko skated over to join them. Soon, the triplets were off again, having secured Victor’s promise to watch them later. He was left alone with Yuuri’s oldest friend, her arms crossed as she gazed coolly at her onetime idol.

 

“Yuuko,” he nodded to her as Takeshi moved to bracket him on the other side. Victor swallowed, feeling his excitement turn to dread. Yuuri called out from where he’d stepped onto the ice and Yuuko turned to join him, flashing Victor a warning glance as she moved away. Moving cautiously to the closest bench, the Russian fumbled his skates out of his bag and slipped them on, clumsy fingers tightening the laces. A deep sigh heralded Takeshi’s arrival as the man batted Victor’s fingers away.

 

“You’re going to snap them,” the larger man hummed, relacing the skates with practiced motions. He stood, offering his hand to Victor. He took it tentatively, letting Takeshi pull him to his feet. An awkward moment of silence passed as they both turned to face the rink. Victor hesitated, waiting for the other man to speak his mind, then shrugged as he started to move towards the entrance to the ice. A hand on his shoulder halted him and he glanced back.

 

“He’s like a little brother to her, you know? Always has been.” Victor nodded, waiting for Takeshi to continue. “I bullied him, when we were kids. I didn’t really mean anything by it, just being a little shit but she was the one who put me in my place. Took a long time for her to forgive me over it, but eventually she did. Mostly because  _ he _ had forgiven me.” He offered a crooked grin. “She’ll say her piece, eventually, but she doesn’t hold a grudge, not really. Even I can tell he’s happier with you back in his life. She’ll see it too.” He clapped Victor’s shoulder, then released him.

 

“Thanks Takeshi, I appreciate the warning.” Steeling himself, he stepped back on the ice.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot springs, amiright? *Nods sagely* 
> 
> Where's Flip you ask? No worries. Next chapter. 
> 
> Also up next: We're going to start tiptoeing back into angst territory. Sorry loves. But you knew Rubina wasn't going to let them off easily, right?


	14. Hasetsu Interlude, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuko is a good friend. Flip is cute. Yuri Plisetsky is missing.

***

Victor meandered his way through the choreography he’d been working on for Mila’s short program, half of his attention on the other end of the rink, where Yuuko had pulled Takeshi and Yuuri into a huddled cluster. Worry clenched in his gut. Shaking his head to clear it, he moved into the next sequence, forcing himself to focus. The sound of nearby blades caught his ears, and he glanced up in time to see Yuuri approaching. He greeted his husband with a small smile, catching the offered hand as they moved easily into a gentle spin.

 

Yuuri grinned up at him when they stopped. “Hey love. Takeshi and I are going to go grab some takeout and pick Flip up from his sitter. Do you want to keep working on choreography, or do you want to come with us?”

 

Victor cocked his head thoughtfully, stealing a glance in Yuuko’s direction. She was watching, one eyebrow raised in what looked suspiciously like a challenge. The triplets were off watching some YouTube show they absolutely HAD to watch right then, so if he stayed, it’d just be him and Yuuko. He steeled himself. “Go ahead love. I’ll just keep working until you guys get back.” Yuuri nodded, his eyes darting over to where Yuuko was watching them, before leaning up on his toepicks to press a quick kiss against Victor’s lips.

 

The Russian Coach watched his partner exit the ice, trailing after Takeshi, before he resolutely returned to the program he’d been working on. If Yuuko had something on her mind, he knew she would eventually broach the subject herself. He’d wait for her to come to him. In the meantime, he reached for the calming clarity the ice had always brought him.

 

Long moments passed, the only sounds the snick of blades and the occasional burst of chatter from the pre-teens sitting in the bleachers. Finally, he heard a throat being cleared behind him and pulled himself out of the slow spin he’d been considering. Turning, he was unsurprised to see Yuuko. Her shoulders were slightly hunched, and her hands were clenched, but determination blazed in her eyes. He kept his expression passive, hoping the woman couldn’t hear the nervous racing of his heart. She hesitated for a long moment and Victor finally took pity on her.

 

“It’s just me, Yuuko. You can say what you need,” he said gently. She nodded firmly to herself, taking a deep breath.

 

“He almost retired, you know,” she began, her voice gentle and sad. At Victor’s confused look. “After he left you, I mean. Mari told me he was considering it. If he hadn’t been accepted into the graduate program, hadn’t gone back to Detroit… I don’t know that he would have ever competed again.” She glanced at him, a hint of accusation in her eyes.

 

“I didn’t know,” he murmured softly. “That… that would have been a tragedy.” She nodded solemnly.

 

“Yes. It would have. He belongs on the ice, as long as he wants to be there. Ending his career due to heartbreak… I don’t think anyone would have wanted to see that.” She shook her head slowly before continuing. “He spent a few months here before he left for Detroit. Mostly kept to himself, holed up in his room during the day, skating in the middle of the night. Most mornings we’d come in to the ice covered in figures. He must have been in here, alone, for hours.”

 

Victor hung his head, the sadness in Yuuko’s voice driving him to tears. Still, he stayed quiet and listened.

 

“I came in one morning and found something more than just figures on the ice. It was your wedding anniversary.” Victor looked up sharply. “I don’t know what happened. I never asked. Maybe you two talked. Maybe you fought? Maybe he was just angry.” She eyed him pensively. “But, Victor, do you know how much force you have to use to throw a phone so hard that the plastic case  _ shatters? _ ”

 

He couldn’t help it. He flinched. Yuuko nodded as if he’d confirmed her suspicions. “Yuuko… I…”

 

She shook her head, though she looked more tired than angry. “He loves you. He loves you more than  _ anything. _ And I’m not blind. I see how you look at him. It’s the same way you looked at him the first time you popped up in Hasetsu.” She shrugged, looking a little lost suddenly. “He’s a grown man, he can make his own choices, but I  _ worry _ . He’s been a part of my life longer than almost anyone. Just,  _ please _ , promise me you’ll take care of each other this time?”

 

Victor felt a little nonplussed at her last sentence. This talk really hadn't gone the way he'd expected. “Ah…”

 

She flashed the sweet smile he remembered so well in his direction. “Oh, Victor. Maybe I’ve known him longer, but something tells me that Yuuri’s not the only one who was in pain. You’re  _ so  _ good for each other. I’m just glad both of you have finally  _ remembered _ that.”

 

He felt a warm flush of relief as he ruffled a sheepish hand through his hair, then opened his arms wide in a clear invitation. Yuuko grinned impishly, then dove in to take the offered hug. “It’s good to see you, Yuuko,” he murmured against her soft hair.

 

“Hey! Quit flirting with my wife!”

 

They pulled apart, laughing, as Takeshi reappeared, laden with takeout bags. Yuuri trailed behind him, arms laden with a squirming toddler. Victor and Yuuko glided forward in sync, moving to meet the men at rinkside. Pulling to a stop, Victor made grabby hands towards the little boy, earning a laugh from the other trio. Yuuri turned so that Flip could catch a better view of his godfather, bouncing him slightly on his hip.

 

“Oh, hiiiii there sweetheart,” Victor cooed, reaching out tentative hands. Flip leaned precariously forward and Yuuri gently handed him off to his husband, one hand hovering protectively behind the small head. Victor settled the boy on his hip, mimicking Yuuri’s bounce. Flip latched solemn eyes on his face, one small hand reaching for the unusually colored locks of hair, the other lodged firmly in his mouth. Victor melted, the sweet feel of the boy in his arms warming something deep inside. After a moment, Flip pulled the sticky hand away from his face, reaching up to pat Victor’s instead.

 

“Unka Vikta,” he solemnly pronounced.

 

Victor melted.

 

**May 18** **th** **, 2021, Hasetsu**

 

Mari startled at the sudden hand on her shoulder, but quickly recognized her mother’s gentle grip as the older woman settled beside her at the low table. A glance passed between them, then Mari returned her gaze to where Victor was pacing at the other end of the room, phone clutched to his ear as he spoke in rapid Russian. 

 

“Yuu-chan hasn’t come back?” Hiroko asked, concern heavy in her tone. Mari shook her head.

 

“No. He spoke about two words to whoever called, then took off.  _ His _ phone started going off a few minutes later,” she pointed towards Victor with a hooked thumb, “Otherwise I’m sure he’d have already gone after Yuuri. Something’s up.”

 

Hiroko pursed her lips. “I do not like that they are under so much stress. They deserve a nice vacation, they both work so hard…”

 

Mari bit her tongue. She was glad her parents were relative luddites when it came to social media and the internet in general. Hopefully they’d managed to miss most of the chaos swirling around Hasetsu’s favorite son and his spouse. Speaking of which…

 

“Have you looked outside lately? Any news vans camping out?” The media furor over Victor’s presence had thankfully died down fairly quickly this time, but if something big had happened, they might be in for another round.

 

“No, not that I saw,” Hiroko murmured, worry in her eyes as she watched her son-in-law’s ceaseless pacing. Victor’s face was clouded with barely contained fury as he let loose a particularly loud burst of unintelligible Russian. Hiroko sighed.

 

“I’m going to go put together some snacks. Might as well call Minako and have her bring something from Kachu. Something tells me we’re in for a long night.”

 

***

 

Yuuri slumped back on his old bed, checking the time before thumbing a quick text message. Celestino and Phichit were probably awake by now but their training started early, and he didn’t want to interrupt with his own problems. He’d known this wouldn’t be easy, he’d just hoped they’d have a little more time before they had to deal with it. Heaving a sigh, he stood, scooping his phone up as he headed back down to the common room. He was unsurprised to find it emptied of guests, Minako, Yuuko and his family sharing a bottle of shochu as they watched Victor pacing around the other end of the room.

 

Resigned, he flopped down to join them, leaning his head on Yuuko’s shoulder as he accepted a glass from Minako. Victor glanced o ver at the sudden motion and Yuuri offered him a small smile of encouragement. The Russian’s expression lightened for a moment before he went back to speaking urgently into the phone.

 

“How long has he been at it?” Yuuri asked, not bothering to direct the question to anyone in particular.

 

“Pretty much since you left the room,” Mari muttered, snagging a dumpling with her chopsticks. “Care to tell us what’s going on?”

 

Yuuri shook his head, eyes shadowed. “Politics mostly. That was Natalie. Georgi tried showing her around the rink, but a bunch of FFKK thugs showed up and told her she was only allowed on the premises during public skating hours. Locked her out of the office Victor assigned her, too. They threatened to have someone revoke her visa if she doesn’t comply. She’s pretty shaken.”

 

Yuuko’s forehead wrinkled in concern. “Yuuri, how are you supposed to keep up your normal training schedule? If they aren’t letting your coach have access the rink, they aren’t going to let you, either.”

 

Yuuri bit his lip. “Yeah, I know.” He shook his head. “I knew this was going to be a battle, I just didn’t expect them to draw the lines quite so soon.”

 

Hiroko looked confused. “I don’t understand, Yuu-chan. You’ve skated in Russia before and everything was fine, yes?”

 

“They let him skate back then because they knew it was the only way to keep  _ me _ on the ice.” Victor’s voice was resigned as he strode back over to join them at the table. Yuuri placed a gentle hand on his husband’s knee and Victor offered him a tired smile.

 

Minako leaned forward, pouring the Russian a healthy glass of liquor. “Okay, so why is this different? They want you to coach, they need to compromise by letting your husband skate. He’s bringing his own coach  _ and _ he’s the top ranked men’s singles skater in the world. Your Club and your students can only benefit by his presence, really. What’s their issue? Who were you on the phone with, Victor?”

 

The tall, pale figure took a gulp of the shochu, then leaned over to slump against Yuuri’s shoulder. “Georgi. He and Katya were called into an official contract review meeting with the St. Petersburg Skating Federation. They kept it vague, but they were basically warned against fraternizing with foreign rivals if they wanted to maintain their association with the FFKK.”

 

Yuuri narrowed his eyes. “They have no right t o treat Natalie like this,” he started angrily. Victor shook his head with a sigh.

 

“No, they don’t, but it’s not her they’re really targeting. It’s you.  _ And  _ me.”

 

Mari cleared her throat, staring flatly at her brother-in-law. “You were on the phone an awfully long time to be discussing  _ one _ contract meeting.”

 

Victor stiffened, then finished his drink in a rush before staring up towards the ceiling. This time Toshiya was the one to lean forward and refill the glass, patting the Russian’s shoulder gently before settling the bottle within his reach. Victor flashed a small smile of thanks in the older man’s direction but didn’t move to immediately drink. The group waited patiently for him to gather his thoughts, Yuuri’s thumb rubbing his knee in comforting reassurance. Finally, he licked his thin lips and faced Mari.

 

“They brought in an “interim” head coach to “provide stable leadership” during my absence. The implication is that he’s there to step in if my probation becomes permanent.

 

A clamor of protests echoed through the room, but Yuuri’s quiet voice cut through the cacophony.

 

“Who?” His eyes were blazing as held his husband’s gaze.

 

“Adrian Rubinof. Former National Champion pairs skater. He’s been coaching Junior pairs in Moscow the last few years. He’s been stepping in during practices and pulling my skaters into private meetings. Mila and Alexei are still on vacation, but Georgi said he cornered Yura a couple days ago.”

 

“ _ Shimatta _ ,” Yuuri swore. “Bet he didn’t take kindly to that.”

 

Victor chuckled ruefully. “You know our kitten too well. Georgi said he hasn’t shown up to practice since. Off sulking somewhere, I suppose.”

 

An opaque glance passed between the Katsukis, and Hiroko stood abruptly, dusting her hands off. “Your old room is okay, Yuu-chan?” Yuuri nodded as Victor looked on in bewilderment. She bustled off quickly.

 

“What…”

 

“ _ Oka-san _ went to change the linens in my old bedroom.”

 

“Why would…”

 

“I should go reinforce the media blackout with the girls,” Yuuko said, standing with a sigh and bowing her farewells.

 

Victor threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “Can someone  _ please _ explain what is going on?”

 

Yuuri kissed the top of his head fondly. “Think about it sweetheart. Yura’s pissed off and missing. Where do you  _ think _ he might be?”

 

Victor groaned and dropped his head to the table.

 

So much for a peaceful vacation. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're tumbling back down the drama hole. But are Rubina and her cronies ready to face a united Victuuri? 
> 
> Up Next: Gee, who's knocking so loudly on the onsen doors??


	15. Hasetsu Interlude, Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To absolutely nobody's surprise I present: Yuri Plisetsky!
> 
> (Apologies to those waiting on a Reclaim the Stars Update, I got a bit stuck on a plot point so I need to rewrite a few bits :) )

**May 19** **th** **, 2021, Hasetsu**

 

Yuuri was unsurprised when he awoke to muffled banging the next morning. Ignoring Victor’s sleepy groan of protest, he crawled out of the bed and slipped into his discarded yukata before peeking through the blinds, relieved to see no vehicles other than the departing taxi. Glancing back at the long, lean figure still sleeping in the bed, he bit his lip. He’d tried to play it off last night so that his husband wouldn’t worry more than necessary, but the news out of St. Petersburg, coupled with Yuri’s arrival, couldn’t signify anything good. At the very least, it would likely put a damper on their nightly skating sessions, he thought wistfully.

 

_ Ah well, it had been nice while it lasted. _

 

Voices in the hall drew his attention from the window and he moved closer to the bed, flicking the sheet to cover Victor’s bare hip in time for the door to fly open. Unsurprisingly, Yuri Plisetsky glared through the opening, an exasperated Mari standing cross-armed behind him.

 

“Sorry  _ otouto,  _ we tried to stop him,” she drawled.

 

“Yura?” Victor sat up, frowning in confused concern, the sheet dropping from his shoulders to pool in his lap. The blond skater glanced in his coach’s direction, then snapped his gaze back to Yuuri, a slight blush burning on his high cheekbones. Something that looked suspiciously like relief flashed in his jewel-like eyes before he composed himself.

 

“Shit. Sorry. I… sorry. I need to talk to you two,” he said gruffly.

 

Yuuri nodded, his hand moving to run soothing strokes through Victor’s tangled bedhead. “Okay. Give us a bit to get dressed Yura.  _ Nee-chan, _ would you mind getting him settled? Breakfast in one of the private rooms if it’s not too much trouble this morning?”

 

“Sure. We’re slow right now anyway. Let’s go Yurio.” She half dragged the young Russian back down the hall, his protests trailing behind him as their door swung closed.

 

Victor pulled insistently at Yuuri’s hips, drawing him back onto the bed and into a long, lingering embrace. “I was hoping you were wrong,” the Russian admitted, the words muffled against Yuuri’s shoulder.

 

“I know,” he said, running a soothing hand up the warm pale back. “But he’s here now and, despite his reputation, I have a feeling it’s because of something more important than choreography.” Victor whispered a soft curse into his skin, then finally moved to rise.

 

“You’re right. We should go hear him out.” He flashed a mournful glance in Yuuri’s direction. “I’m sorry our vacation got crashed.” Yuuri stood, leaning to press a kiss against the firm chest before glancing up coquettishly through his long lashes.

 

“Oh, don’t worry, Nikiforov, I’ll let you make it up to me.”

 

***

 

Victor followed in his husband’s wake as they made their way towards Yutopia’s dining room, having stubbornly resisted the urge to don his more formal ‘coach’ attire. Yura was a friend as well as a student, he sternly reminding himself, trying hard not to resent the young man’s encroachment on his vacation. Yuuri paused in the hallway, turning back to face him.

 

“Hey,” the Japanese man said, an encouraging smile crossing the plush lips.

 

“Hey,” Victor responded, helpless against the beguiling man.

 

“You know I’m with you, no matter what, right?” A lump caught in his throat at the obvious love beneath the simple words. For a long time, he’d believed that he’d lost hope of regaining Yuuri’s affection… that calm reassurance meant the world to him. He nodded, at a loss for words for a long moment.

 

“I know,” he finally breathed, feeling his racing heart steady. “Let’s go see what has the kitten’s hackles up, shall we?” Yuuri nodded up at him, smiling.

 

“Whatever it is, we can handle this, Vitya.”

 

Victor nodded, “Okay.” He grabbed for Yuuri’s hand, then squared his shoulders as he turned to face the door to the private dining room. He was only midway through his mental self-pep talk when the door swung open, Yura leaning against the frame in exasperation.

 

“Oh, my fucking god. I’m not going to  _ fucking  _ bite you, you  _ assholes,”  _ the blond snarled, rolling his eyes. “Can we  _ please _ eat now?” The young Russian stepped back, gesturing towards the low table. Yuuri shook his head, suppressing a strange urge to giggle as he grasped his husband’s hand, tugging the taller man into the room. Yuri sighed in relief, allowing the door to fall closed once again.

 

They sat, Victor and his student locking gazes as Yuuri poured the steaming pot of tea. Shaking his head, the Japanese skater poked Victor’s cheek. “Eat. He’ll talk when he’s got something in his stomach.” Yuri flashed a grateful look in his direction, then dug into his  _ tamago gohan _ hungrily.

 

Yuuri sipped his tea thoughtfully as he watched the younger skater. Yuri Plisetsky was nearly as notorious as his coach when it came to wildly spontaneous actions, but he had a sneaking suspicion that this particular flight to Japan was less unplanned than it might seem.

 

“You don’t seem that surprised to see me,” the blond pointed out bluntly after a while, chopsticks mid-air.

 

Victor shrugged. “Yuuri figured it out before I did, but we spoke with Georgi and Natalie yesterday. We knew you’d disappeared. With us here for another couple weeks…” he trailed off, raising his eyebrows significantly.

 

Yuri grunted. “Dunno that I like being  _ that _ predictable.” He shoveled a few more bites into his mouth, then sat back, eyeing the older pair. “How much do you know?” 

 

Yuuri and Victor exchanged a long glance, Yuuri nodding at his husband to field the question.

 

“They banned Yuuri’s coach from the Club. Basically threatened Georgi and Katya about speaking with her. Brought in their own coach. Am I missing anything?” Victor’s voice was light, but it was clear to Yuuri from his furrowed brow and averted eyes that the FFKK’s actions were weighing heavily on his mind. From the sharp glance Yuri gave his coach, he wasn’t the only one who had caught Victor’s mood.

 

The young Russian’s voice was softer when he spoke again. “Right. And… you know who they brought in?” Victor nodded. “He’s talking to all the Club’s skaters, Victor. It’s mostly Juniors there right now, but he’s acting like he’s the new head coach. Like you’re not coming back to St. Petersburg. Instituting his own regimen, his own rules.”

 

A sudden sharp snap sounded in the small space, Yuuri and Yuri both glancing in surprise at the broken chopstick that Victor suddenly dropped to the table.

 

“ _ Blyad _ . I’m sorry, I didn’t, I swear I didn’t mean to do that…” the older man half-whispered, glancing wildly at his husband in sudden panic.

 

Yuuri shook his head. “Vitya, it’s okay, you’re upset…” he trailed off as Victor suddenly stood.

 

“Sorry, I just… I’ll be back, I just… need a minute,” the silver blond stammered in a rush, exiting before either skater could stop him. Yuuri slumped as he disappeared, then moved to push himself up from the floor.

 

“ _ Gomen _ , Yura, I should…”

 

“No. Let me?”

 

Yuuri glanced up sharply, but the younger man’s expression was unreadable. Slowly, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll let you two have some time. I’m… I think I’ll go to the rink? I’ll see you later?”

 

“Yeah. Thanks, Katsudon. I’ll return him in one piece. Probably.” Yuri smirked half-heartedly as he stood. Yuuri laughed, waving the younger man off.

 

“You’re all talk, Kitten.” 

 

***

 

Yuri ducked out of the public section of the onsen, moving through the family’s private wing and out a little side exit that he remembered from previous visits. Sure enough, Victor had settled onto the small bench in the side yard, stretching one knee out as he stared morosely into the distance.

 

He approached, not making any attempt at stealth. Settling onto the bench, he glanced down, eyeing where his coach was absent-mindedly rubbing at his extended knee. “Does it still bother you?” He asked, voice quieter than normal. Victor shrugged.

 

“At times, yes. I think… I think it is one of those aches that never really goes away. It’s just… more noticeable sometimes.” He smiled wanly in Yuri’s direction. “When I’m stressed, mostly. There’s a word for it but I can’t remember… Yuuri might know.”

 

“Psychosomatic.”

 

Victor looked mildly impressed. “ _ Da. _ That was it.”

 

Yuri shrugged. “I’m sorry. That you’re in pain, I mean.”

 

A flash of surprise crossed the lean, pale features. “Why? You didn’t cause my injury, Yura. It was an accident, nothing more.” His voice was firm.

 

“No, but I’m the reason you’re stressed.”

 

Victor shook his head. “No. No, Yura. Do not take the blame for things that are not your fault. I have learned my lesson about wrongly blaming people for things out of their control.” His smile was sad, but he didn’t falter as he spoke. “You did a kind thing, coming here to warn me. Don’t think I don’t realize that.”

 

“I know you’re on vacation, I just…” Yuri paused, unsure of how to explain the compulsion that had led him back to Hasetsu. Victor bumped him with his shoulder, a wry grin crossing his face.

 

“Strange how you keep chasing me here, isn’t it?”

 

Yuri barked a short laugh. “Bit of a different circumstance this time, old man.” Victor hummed an agreement, gaze once more focusing out into the yard. A long moment passed before Yuri felt his coach’s gaze suddenly burning on him.

 

“Yura… I’m grateful for the warning, but… why are you actually here? You could have called, like Georgi did. Like Natalie did. What did Rubinof say that upset you enough to fly to Japan?”

 

Yuri stilled for a long moment, then, steeling himself, leapt in. “Vitya… you know who he  _ is,  _ right?”

 

Victor nodded. “Chairwoman Rubina’s nephew, yes. It would seem the good lady is not above a healthy dose of nepotism.”

 

Yuri snorted. “Fuck that. All of her shit about loyalty to the FFKK and she tries to put him in charge of the Club. As if his career could ever call for that sort of prestigious position when we already have  _ you _ .”

 

Victor smirked at his side. “Careful, kitten. I’m almost tempted to be flattered.”

 

He narrowed his eyes. “He clearly expects to take over the Club. Mila and I have every chance of medaling at the Beijing Olympics. Alyosha has every chance of making the Team. We deserve the best coach possible.” He hesitated, unused to such honesty. “Augh, fuck it. We deserve  _ you. _  Yeah, I was pissed when Yakov retired, but dammit Vitya, you’re a good fucking coach. So, I want to know right now. Are you planning on fighting for the St. Petersburg Club? Or should I be looking into a visa for a long-term training program in Japan?”

 

Victor looked startled. “I… you… you would come here? Train here?”

 

He kicked at the ground in front of the bunch. “Is that what you want? To stay here?”

 

The Russian coach rolled his shoulders back. “If I have to, then I’m sure I can figure out a way to make it work.”

 

“But…”

 

Victor flashed a feral grin. “ _ But _ St. Petersburg is my home. It’s where Yuuri and I lived for years. Where we lived after we got married. And the Club… it’s my home too. Yakov left it to  _ me. _ I’m not letting them take my home from me without a fight.”

 

Yuri’s teeth flashed fiercely. “Good.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your continued support!
> 
> Up Next: Victor starts making plans, but neglects a few important steps...


	16. Hasetsu Interlude, Pt. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made.   
> Kind of.

**May 20 th, 2021, Hasetsu**

 

Yuri Plisetsky slipped back into Hasetsu life as if he had never left. That was the way of his tiny hometown, Yuuri mused. It called to its own, luring and lulling them into a sense of peace that he’d never found anywhere else in the world.

 

_Well_ , he thought, it’d be peaceful if it weren’t for the niggling suspicion that he was missing something. Victor and Yuri spent long hours together, not so strange on its own, they _were_ student and coach after all. But still…

 

Something was off.

 

It was the way Victor kept glancing at him, wistful but determined. The same way he’d clutched Yuuri against him in bed last night.

 

_Dammit._

 

There was something Victor wasn’t telling him, something Victor was trying to hide in order to protect him. Something to do with the reason Yuri had once again chased them to Hasetsu.

 

Stubborn, beautiful _ass._

 

Yuuri’s eyes narrowed as he watched Victor and Yuri once more huddled in conversation on the other side of the rink. Unfortunately for whatever his husband was plotting, stubborn was a game at which Katsuki Yuuri _excelled_.

 

***

 

Victor stared down at his phone, finger hovering over the contact pulled up on the screen. Finally, steeling himself, he pressed the call button.

 

“I expected I’d be hearing from you soon,” Yakov harrumphed in his ear. “I assume our problem child showed up on your doorstep again?”

 

Victor grinned. “ _Da._ We’ve got the Kitten. I have him running extra practices at the Ice Castle.”

 

Yakov paused for a long moment. “Vitya… you know I respect the man, but you and Katsuki…”

 

“Relax, Yakov. We’re being careful not to be seen at the rink together during public hours and we only go during private hours if we’re sure nobody’s watching.”

 

Yakov heaved a deep sigh of relief. “Good. You do not need to be handing that woman any more fuel for this witch hunt of hers. She is already throwing her weight around about you being in Japan. Thankfully she has not yet caught wind of Yura’s presence.”

 

Victor curled his lip in disdain. “It’s the _off_ season, I’m not violating any contractual obligations…”

 

“You are on _probation_ , Vitya! I will stand with you on this hill of yours, but you and I both knew this was a risky move. You all but threw down a gauntlet, now you must face the duel.”

 

Victor snorted. “Why Yakov! How poetic!”

 

“Foolish boy,” Yakov snarled fondly. “I presume you know the situation at my Club?”

 

Victor rolled his eyes but let the possessive phrasing slide. “Mmmhmmm. Rubinof is throwing his weight around. It’s a power move, Rubina’s trying to take advantage of my absence.”

 

“Adrian Rubinof was an adequate enough skater in his time, but he never made it far in the international competitions and he’s never coached beyond the junior level. The Chairwoman would be mad to believe he’s capable of training Olympic caliber athletes.” Yakov said dismissively. “No. She’s using him as bait.”

 

Victor blinked, nonplussed. “Bait?”

 

Another sigh echoed down the line. “On the one hand, she has banned ‘foreign competitors’ from making any effective use of the rink. On the other, she has placed a usurper in control of your skaters. You have already shown yourself to be protective of those under your tutelage.”

 

“When did…”

 

Yakov cut him off. “When you showed your ire at her dismissal of Mila’s performance at Worlds. She is trying to force you to _choose_ , Vitya, to choose the FFKK, to choose _her_. She has not managed it with warnings or probations, so now she has moved to actively threatening the things and people you care about. She’s seeking control.”

 

_“She_ is an idiot if she thinks to gain my loyalty by actively seeking to harm my husband or my skaters!”

 

“No, Vitya, she is an _idiot_ because she thinks she can predict your actions! She believes you will either give up your control of the Club to stay in Japan with your husband or that you will give up your husband to come running back to retake the Club.”

 

“A rock and a hard place, an impossible choice,” Victor murmured.

 

“Precisely,” Yakov hissed. “Tell me boy, who _are_ you?”

 

“I… _huh?_ ” This entire phone call had gone off the rails and Victor felt like he was floundering. “Um, I’m Victor Nikiforov?”

 

“Precisely,” Yakov hummed with satisfaction. “And tell me, what does Victor Nikiforov live to do?”

 

Wait, what?

 

Oh!

 

_OH!_

 

Victor felt a fierce grin spread across his face as his mind raced. “Tell me Yakov… do you still keep up with _all_ of your old FFKK contacts?”

 

**May 22 nd, 2021, Hasetsu**

 

“…mmmhmmm, just let me know what day works for you. No, I’ll make sure you’re the only one there. No, thank _you_ , you’re a lifesaver Chris! _Oui, au revoir!"_

 

Yuuri was torn between curiosity and guilt at overhearing the tail end of Victor’s conversation. Curiosity won. “Oh? Was that Christophe? How’s the wedding planning coming along?”

 

Victor winced, looking guilty. “ _Dermo!_ I completely forgot to ask! I’m a terrible friend…” he pouted.

 

Yuuri sidled under Victor’s arm, unable to resist his husband’s adorably put-out face. “I’m sure he’ll forgive you. I’m surprised he didn’t bring it up himself, honestly. What were you two chatting about?” He asked innocently. To his dismay, Victor’s face dragged into a guilty wince.

 

“Ah, I was asking for his help with my return to St. Petersburg. I’ve been thinking that it wouldn’t hurt to have some friendly media on hand to help redirect the narrative.”

 

Yuuri’s heart caught strangely on his spouse’s phrasing, but he plowed ahead. “Oh. Good thinking, I could probably talk to Morooka-san, see if somebody from TV Asahi could help…” he trailed off, narrowing his eyes. “Wait. _Your_ return to St. Petersburg?”

 

Victor glanced down at him quizzically. “Well, technically, I suppose it’s Yura’s return to St. Petersburg as well.”

 

Yuuri stiffened, pulling away from the Russian coach. “And where am I in this equation, Vitya?” His voice was calm to his relief, belying the sudden wave of hurt rushing through him.

 

Those too blue eyes continued to betray nothing but confusion. “Yuuri,” Victor said softly. “I… you can’t skate there until everything’s sorted out, I assumed it would be easier for you to stay here where you have easy access to a good rink… I’ll help Natalie get her visa sorted and she can come back here to help until…”

 

“Stop. Just. _Stop._ ” Yuuri almost didn’t recognize his own voice. “When were you planning on telling me about these decisions you’ve made?” He took a deep breath. “Without _me_. Your _husband_.”

 

Victor suddenly looked horrified. “Oh, god, Yuuri, no… that’s, that’s not… I just… I thought with everything, it would be easier if…”

 

“If I stayed here. Out of trouble.” Again with that strangely calm voice. He needed to get out of here, he couldn’t _think_. “I’m… I’m going for a walk.” He turned his back on the panic stricken Russian, only then realizing they had gained an audience. Yuri and Mari gaped at them from the doorway, looking as stunned as he suddenly felt. He forced himself to move toward them, to pass them.

 

“Yuuri, wait, _dorogoy,_ please…”

 

He kept walking.

 

***

 

Victor felt a numbing sense of _déjà vu_ as he watched Yuuri walk away.   

“What the _fuck,_ old man?” Yura snarled, glaring at him. At his side, Mari’s fierce gaze burned.

 

“Going to have to echo that sentiment, Nikiforov,” she grated. “Care to explain why my kid brother just ran out of here looking like you murdered his best friend?”

 

Fighting through the sudden pressure that seemed to be crushing his chest, he struggled to respond. “I… I fucked up. I need to go after him…”

 

The other pair blocked his exit, looking eerily similar in their faux-casual attitudes. “What did you _do,_ Vitya?” Yuri growled, his eyes flashing with suppressed concern.

 

Something in Victor relaxed at the unconscious use of the diminutive, but he still hung his head. “It’s what I _didn’t_ do Yura. Apparently, I continue to have shit communication skills. I thought… I thought it was obvious that he should stay here while we sort things out in St. Petersburg…”   

 

Yuri and Mari rolled their eyes in unison.  “How have you managed to be with him for this long without realizing that Yuuri does not take well to assumptions? _Or_ to people making decisions on his behalf? My brother may be quiet, but he’s damned stubborn and probably the most independent person I know.”

 

Victor ran his hand through his hair, tugging lightly to ground himself. “Dammit. I’m an idiot. I need to find him.” He turned to Mari, beseeching. “I swear, I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was… I was trying to protect him…”

 

The Japanese woman stared at him, stoic as ever. At least until she _flicked_ him in the middle of his forehead. “ _Baka._ Yuuri doesn’t want you to protect him. All he’s ever wanted is to be your equal. To stand with you.”

 

“Let me go Mari, I’m going to fix this, I _swear_ ,” Victor held her gaze, trying to convey his sincerity. Finally, she moved to one side. He clasped her shoulder as he passed, ignoring Yuri’s muttered deprecations as he made his way to the onsen’s exit and yanked on his shoes. Outside, he hesitated. Would Yuuri truly appreciate him following so soon? Did he need space?

 

Was Victor willing to _give_ him space?

 

_No._ He decided. He’d screwed up, waiting for Yuuri to calm down enough to talk about it wasn’t an option. He needed to make the move, to actively try and fix this. He’d made the mistake of assuming Yuuri would just get over things before…

 

One of the many blessings of a small town was that it wasn’t hard to predict Yuuri’s route.  Sure enough, he caught up to his husband on the small bridge, Hasetsu Castle shining in the distance.  Yuuri was leaning on the railing, eyes distant. Victor settled beside him, silent but attentive. The silence settled between them, hovering on the edge of uncomfortable. Finally, Victor licked his lips and shifted his gaze.

 

“I’m sorry. I made an assumption and I made a mistake. Yuuri… _please_ …”

 

“I’m angry. I’m so mad at you right now…” Yuuri’s voice was barely above a whisper.

 

“I know. I messed up. I’m sorry, Yuuri… please, please don’t hate me…” Victor couldn’t help watching his husband as he waited for a response.

 

The Japanese man swallowed, eyes still distant. “Dammit, Vitya, I don’t _hate_ you.”

 

Victor was torn, not sure if Yuuri would be open to his touch. “Yuuri…”

 

The smaller man suddenly surged into his arms in an almost violent motion. “I’m so _angry_ with you right now,” Yuuri repeated.

 

“I know, _dorogoy_ , I’m so sorry, I’m such an ass…” Victor’s apology cut off as Yuuri burrowed into him. He fell into silence, holding the smaller man as the sun slowly slipped beyond the horizon. He rested his chin against the soft raven locks, content to wait until his lover was ready to open up to him again.

 

“Why?” Yuuri finally murmured against his chest. “Why would you just… _decide_ something like this?” The Japanese skater pulled away to glare up at the Russian coach.

 

“I…”

 

“What, you thought you knew better? That you had the right to make decisions for me?” Yuuri’s cinnamon eyes swirled with an angry red.

 

“I didn’t think of it that way, Yuuri,” Victor murmured softly. “I was trying to do what was best for _you._ But I fucked up, not asking your thoughts, your opinions…”

 

Yuuri murmured an agreement against his shoulder. “I don’t need your protection, Vitya,” he pointed out. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m the reigning World Champion. Five-time World Champion…” his grin was slightly cheeky, and Victor couldn’t resist the urge to steal a kiss from those perfect lips.

 

“I know, Yuuri. I swear… I do _know,_ ” he pulled Yuuri into a firmer embrace. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t _want_ to protect you. I love you. That’s… kind of part of the package. I’m sorry I went about it the wrong way. We can fix this. Tell me what you want to do and we will figure out something that works for _both_ of us, okay?”

 

Yuuri pursed his lips, then nodded. “I’m not staying behind. If you’re going back to St. Petersburg, then I am too. If you want to rent out the Ice Castle and train your skaters here, we can bring Natalie here. But we stay together.”

 

Victor nodded in agreement. “Okay. I’d like to try to fix things in St. Petersburg but it’s going to be tough on you if the FFKK tries to limit your ice time. But if you want to try…”

 

“I do.”

 

“Then… we go. Together. But, Yuuri…” The Russian coach hesitated for a long moment, until Yuuri gave him a worried nudge.

 

“But…?”

 

“I know we aren’t ever going to be perfect. And I know we’re going to have disagreements, but… even if you’re angry, even if you want to yell at me, can you please just… not _leave_? Just, stay? I can handle tears, I can handle you being mad… but you left once, and you didn’t come _back_.” His voice cracked. “Please, Yuuri?”

 

Yuuri looked pale and stunned. “ _Fuck,_ ” he swore. “I’m sorry. You’re right, we’ve both made mistakes here. I… forgive me?”

 

Victor flashed a genuine smile, pulling Yuuri close in relief. “Already forgiven, _solnyshko._ Forgive me?”

 

Yuuri pulled the taller man down in a searing kiss, all the answer that was needed.

 

“So, St. Petersburg…” he said musingly, drawing a fierce grin from his tall spouse.

 

“Oh, my darling, they won’t know what hit them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I actually wanted this to be _more_ angsty originally but the boys were like... 'Um, no? Can we just make out on the bridge and get past this?" And being weak for these dolls, I was like, 'okay'. 
> 
> Up Next: Fireworks in St. Petersburg. Featuring all our fave Russians, a Japanese Champion and one wily Swiss commentator!


	17. Once More Into the Breach, Pt. 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew arrive back in St. Petersburg. Adrian Rubinof isn't thrilled.

**May 29th, 2021, Sheremetyevo Airport**

 

Yuuri laughed, watching his two favorite Russians in their latest attempt at subtlety. Yuri’s aggressive slouch and leopard print hoody were nearly as much of a dead giveaway as Victor’s Gucci sunglasses and beanie combo. A beanie. In June. _Ridiculous._

 

Thankfully the normal hustle of busy commuters meant they didn’t draw _too_ much attention. Still, it was with some relief that he spotted Natalie’s familiar red curls from where she stood next to a miraculously low-key Georgi Popovich. The tall assistant coach slumped in relief when he caught sight of the travelers.  With a hint of a smile, the dark-haired Russian reached to snag one of Yuuri’s rolling suitcases, ignoring Victor’s pout of disappointment.

 

“Yuuri has more bags than you, Vitya,” Georgi pointed out with a sniff, “ _Barely._ He’s the one moving, you haven’t even been gone six weeks. Diva.”

 

Yuuri and Natalie both laughed as Victor muttered something about insubordination and gratitude, and then the entire crew was making their way toward the parking garage. Victor and Georgi led the way, heads buried in murmured conversation. Yuuri trailed close behind, Yura and Natalie flanking him.

 

“Sooooo,” Natalie drawled, a serious look on her freckled face.

 

“Natalie, I know I’ve said it on the phone, but I cannot apologize enough for the way you’ve been treated. We are _going_ to make this right, I swear.” From his other side, the young Russian skater growled an affirmative.

 

Natalie grinned cheerfully in response. “Yuuri, calm down. It hasn’t been _that_ bad. All of your friends here have been really nice.” Georgi glanced back, flashing a winsome smile in the woman’s direction. “Really, _really_ nice,” she finished, blushing.

 

Yuri groaned. “Are you fucking kidding me? What is it about you Detroit shitheads? Are you like, Kryptonite for Russians or something? Tell Hamster Boy he is fucking banned from St. Petersburg. We don’t need him seducing Katya or some shit.”

 

Yuuri couldn’t help a tiny giggle, earning himself a glower and a disgusted sigh of resignation from the Russian, although Natalie smiled warmly at him.

 

“Seriously, it’s okay. I was a little surprised that you decided to stick it out here instead of in Japan or Detroit, but we’ll make it work, Yuuri,” the American said earnestly. “Celestino and I have been comparing notes on the videos you sent from Hasetsu and you seem to be in good shape. It’ll be a little awkward until we get everything worked out at the Club, but there’s a little gym nearby that we can use for off-ice training, it’s warm enough to jog outside for conditioning, Madame Baranovskaya’s offered a private studio and, well…” she shrugged. “We’ll have to stick to public hours at the rink, but we can make it work. From what I can tell, you’re respected enough despite the current hubbub that most of the casual skaters will let you have enough space to work. We might not be able to keep your choreography from getting posted online, but…”

 

It was Yuuri’s turn to shrug. “It’s not like I’ve ever been _that_ secretive about my choreography. Getting enough clearance to practice jumps will be the bigger problem with amateurs sharing the ice, but we’ll figure something out.” If Natalie was surprised at his nonchalance, she didn’t let it show.

 

“Yuuri, now that Victor’s here, surely he could sneak you in after-hours…” she began to tentatively suggest.

 

_“No!”_

 

Natalie’s eyes widened at the protest, her skater and all three Russians chorusing the denial.

 

Victor smiled in apology. “Forgive us Coach McKenna, but with my current probation, breaking any sort of rule is a surefire way to guarantee that St. Petersburg is permanently closed to Yuuri and I.” He gestured one elegant hand toward Georgi’s waiting SUV. “I promise, we do have a plan to solve this situation _and_ to make sure your skater gets proper ice time.”

 

She waited while they loaded the bags into the trunk, then hopped into the passenger seat at the men’s insistence. As Georgi backed out of the parking spot, she turned to look back at the newly arrived trio with an inquisitively raised brow. “Okay, soooo…”

 

Yuuri grinned. “We’re going to follow the FFKK’s rules.”

 

Victor’s own smile was shark like. “ _All_ of their rules. My staff and I will fulfill our contractual obligations, to the letter.”

 

“And the skaters will follow suit. We’ll follow _all_ of their damned rules. Aggressively. They won’t be able to accuse us of breaking a single one from here on out.” Yuri flashed his own teeth in an almost feral snarl. “They’re gonna fucking _hate_ this.”

 

Georgi and Natalie exchanged a glance. “I almost feel sorry for the FFKK,” the American coach admitted drawing a laugh from the four men.

 

 _Oh yes,_ thought Yuuri. _This was going to be interesting._

 

**May 31 st, 2021, St. Petersburg Skate Club**

 

Victor pulled into the lot at the Club bright and early on Monday morning. It had been a wrench to leave Yuuri sleeping alone in their long-abandoned bed, but he knew his husband had his own practice planned with Natalie. They’d stayed up late last night, ironing out the final details together, but today… today he had to stand on his own. He peered around the surprisingly full lot, humming in satisfaction at the sight of vehicles both familiar and unknown. It seemed as if the necessary pieces were in place. Time for him to make his first move.

 

***

 

“Oh! Coach Nikiforov! Welcome back!” Victor smiled in Mila’s direction, his nose crinkling a bit at her unusual formality. Yuri stood by her side, a tiny smirk making it clear that the younger man had filled his rink mate in on their plans. Good. He’d counted on Mila’s support, but it was still reassuring to see it in action. As he made his way toward through the Club, he caught little waves and nods of support from other skaters and coaches. Finally, he reached his small office, thankfully still locked and usurper free. He couldn’t help the contemptuous little flick of his eyes toward the next room, the door bearing a presumptuously permanent looking nameplate emblazoned with Adrian Rubinof’s name.

 

 _Upstart puppy_ , he snarled inwardly, his expression carefully blank, before dropping his bag in the office and retrieving the light jacket he typically wore during coaching sessions. He caught Georgi’s eye as he neared the rink and the dark-haired assistant coach blew his whistle, summoning the skaters and staff from their morning warm ups. As the usual crew gathered in a loose huddle, one unfamiliar figure moved more slowly, trailing after the Junior skaters with narrowed eyes. From the corner of his eyes, Victor caught Yuri and Mila moving to flank him, Alexei hovering nervously behind Yura’s shoulder.

 

“Ah. What a pleasant surprise,” Rubinof drawled mildly as he slid to a stop, his glance sliding negligently over Mila and Victor’s forms and landing squarely on Yuri and Alexei. “Glad to see our Olympic singles skaters finally ready to _work._ ”

 

Victor forced himself to stay calm and quiet as Yuri replied.

 

“No _rule_ against taking vacation time in the off-season,” the blond said with a nonchalant shrug. Rubinof narrowed his eyes.

 

“Right,” the man snapped. “Be that as it may, let’s go.” He clapped his hands. “Senior singles! I want to see your jump progressions this morning. Plisetsky, you’re up first. Let’s be sure to make up for that _vacation_ , hm?” Spinning around, Rubinof made his way back toward the center of the ice, clearly expecting immediate obedience. Instead, the entire Club stayed put.

 

“It’s good to see you all,” Victor said with a grin.

 

“Good to see you too, Coach!” A skater called out from the back of the huddle.

 

“Alright then,” he laughed. “You know the drill. Juniors, with Georgi. Alyosha, Mila, Yura, let’s see those figures. I want perfect edgework from you three before we get into choreography! Senior Pairs! See Katya, she has new drills for you to run! Let’s go!” This time, the clap of a coach’s hands brought instant results, the skaters scattering for their assignments, cheerful grumbles filling the air.

 

As Victor watched his Senior singles skaters move into the old-fashioned figures, he heard the _*snck*_ of blades coming to a harsh stop nearby. Turning, he eyed the interim-head coach.

 

“What do you think you’re doing, Nikiforov?” Rubinof asked in a flat monotone.

 

Victor turned to him, face shining in mock innocence. “Why, Adrian! I would think it obvious,” he said, gesturing toward the busy rink. “I’m running practice. I do believe that is part of my formal contract as Head Coach of the St. Petersburg Skate Club.”

 

Rubinof curled his lip. “Clearly, you are unaware of the changes here,” he said dismissively.

 

The silver-blond laughed, a sharp tinkling sound. “I am _aware_ that you were assigned as _interim_ head coach during my absence. I am no longer absent therefore an interim coach is no longer necessary. At least, I  _believe_ that is how such things typically work? If you wish to continue to make yourself useful, I would be more than happy for your assistance with the Junior pairs.” He kept his icy gaze forward, watching his skaters’ figures. “Alyosha! Mila! Pick it up! You’re not going to win with those sloppy edges! Yura, nice work, go ahead and move through progressions. Nothing higher than a triple!”

 

“I already _told_ them to work on jump progressions!” Rubinof groused, his eyes narrowed at the three Senior level skaters.

 

“Mila and Alexei have been on break. Moving immediately into jumps is, quite frankly, potentially dangerous,” Victor said with a hint of a frown.

 

“Plisetsky’s been on break too,” the other coach said with a bite.

 

“Oh, no,” Victor said softly, allowing a hint of satisfaction to slide into his tone. “Yura’s been working with me for _weeks_ already.”

 

***

 

“You already managed to scare the asshole off?”

 

Victor smiled as he handed the water bottle to his protegee. “Mmm, doubtful. I’d imagine he’s gone to pout to auntie dearest.” He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “Yura, if she shows up with…”

 

“With FFKK officials, I need to behave. Coach Nikiforov and all that crap.  _Da, da_ , I’m aware. You think they’ll show today?”

 

Victor shook his head. “No. I think she’ll take today to regroup. I think she’ll be here bright and early tomorrow to make sure practice runs the way she wants. In the meantime…”

 

“What, should we make plans? Talk to Yakov?”

 

The Russian coach raised one perfect, silver eyebrow in challenge. “In the meantime, your triple axel looks like shit. Take it from the top, Plisetsky.”

 

Yuri glared at him, emerald eyes glinting. “You know, maybe I’d rather have Rubinof after all…”

 

“You’re all talk Yura,” Victor beamed. “Get your ass back on the ice.”

 

***

 

Alexei Ivanov was many things. A teenager. A younger brother. A gaming enthusiast. A fan.

                          

A skater.

 

Somehow, a fairly _good_ skater. Some might say a _really_ good skater.

 

He knew all of this and yet… when Yuri Plisetsky ( _The_ Yuri Plisetsky. _The Russian Tiger!)_ asked him to help out his coach _and_ his idol, it all came crashing down. How could _he_ help Victor _freaking_ Nikiforov? The best skater Russia had ever seen? Worse, how could he possible help _Yuuri???_ Yuuri was like, the best skater _ever_.

 

(A tiny traitorous part of his brain struggled not to say the best _coach_ ever, because he knew that Yuuri had only been filling in for Coach Nikiforov but still…)

 

Now, as he snagged his bag and waved his farewells at the end of practice, Yuri’s request was in the forefront of his mind. There were so many _rules_ to follow at competitions or inside the Club but once he was outside of those hallowed spaces…

 

He stepped outside, the normal crowd of skating media that tended to hover outside the Club slightly larger than usual. He smiled and waved, ignoring the mild bombardment of questions until he caught sight of the tall blond man from the international news station. With a friendly gleam of hazel eyes, the man spoke into his microphone. “Skater Ivanov, can you tell us about your hopes for this season?”

 

Alexei Ivanov was many things. An athlete. An artist. A _really_ terrible karaoke singer. A good friend.

 

_Loyal._

 

He grinned back at the tall commentator.

 

Yeah. He could do this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am having way too much fun with this arc. It's been in draft form for a while, so it mostly just needs polishing. Hopefully I'll have two more chapters heading your way in the next week or so! 
> 
> Up Next: Nobody's breaking any rules. Rubina's pissed anyway. But... is everybody in the FFKK on board with her vision? 
> 
> P.S. Your lovely comments on the last chapter were wonderfully encouraging. Thank you so much!
> 
> Also, sidenote: If you're reading it, Reclaim the Stars is on a brief hiatus while I untangle a few plot points. I don't want to write myself into a corner so I want to get through the Finale draft before I start posting again!


	18. Once More Into the Breach, Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rubina's all about making sure everyone _else_ follows the rules...

**June 1 st, 2021, St. Petersburg**

He hesitated, his finger hovering over the arrow on the video pulled up on his screen. Leaning over his shoulder, Yuuri batted his hand away before handing him a mug of tea and pressing the play button himself. Victor laughed. “Impatient, _dorogoy?_ ”

 

Yuuri shot him a teasing glance before fixing his eyes back to the screen. “I know you. You’ll make yourself late second guessing whether or not you should watch. Either you trust Christophe and this plan of yours, or you don’t.”

 

Victor hummed in amused agreement, leaning forward as the clip on the ISU homepage began to play, a vaguely familiar woman appearing on screen.

 

_“Preparation for the 2021/2022 skating season has begun in earnest in St. Petersburg, Russia with the return of legendary skater-turned-coach Victor Nikiforov, despite his recently announced probation. With three Olympic singles podium hopefuls currently under Nikiforov’s leadership, all eyes are on the young Head Coach and his skaters as we barrel toward the Beijing Olympics. NBC’s Christophe Giacometti is on site with more.”_

 

The scene shifted to the familiar façade of the St. Petersburg Skate Club. Yuuri laughed as their friend appeared, looking unusually professional.

 

_“Merci, Daniela. St. Petersburg has long been the home to figure skating royalty. Continuing its long history of excellence, former Olympic gold medalist Victor Nikiforov is joined by fellow Olympians Georgi Popovich and Katarina Stepanova as coaches to the latest crop of Olympic figure skating hopefuls. Some, like PyeongChang medalists Mila Babicheva and Yuri Plisetsky are familiar. Some are new to the scene.”_

 

Another change of view, Alexei appearing on screen, his grin wide but uncertain.

 

_“Skater Alexei Ivanov surprised and delighted the world with a sixth-place finish at the World Figure Skating Championships in his Senior debut. I caught up to him on his first day back at practice here in St. Petersburg.”_

 

The video now shifted to an interview format, Christophe and Alexei sharing a mic as they peer into the camera, a handful of other reporters crowding around them.

 

_“Skater Ivanov, can you tell us about your hopes for this season?”_

 

 _“Ah… I’m hoping to make it to the Grand Prix Final and to be named to the Olympic team! Maybe even to be able to compete for the Team figure skating medal_!” Alexei’s face was earnest, and Christophe flashed a tiny but honest grin at the boy’s enthusiasm.

 

 _“Do you feel that you’re ready for the challenges you’ll face in the coming season?”_ The Swiss man queried.

 

Alexei practically bounced as he bit his lip in thought. _“Oh! Yes! I mean, I get to work with so many amazing skaters and coaches! There’s so much to learn, but everyone is willing to help out!”_

 

 _“How do you feel about transitioning from veteran coach Yakov Feltsman to coach Victor Nikiforov last season? Do you feel that you were well prepared for your Senior debut?_ ”

 

 _“Oh! Gosh! Yes, it wasn’t that big of a change since Coach Nikiforov worked with me back in Juniors and Yuuri too. Yuuri was so awesome, he’s not scary at all even though he’s like the best ever. I wish we could still work with him…”_ The boy trailed off, eyes widening in a brief moment of panic before continuing. _“And Mila and Yura are awesome, even if sometimes they can be a little scary…”_

 

Yuuri and Victor snorted as the scene changed back to the ISU reporter.

 

_“Yuuri, surprisingly, is not Yuri Plisetsky, but Japan’s Yuuri Katsuki, PyeongChang gold medalist and reigning World Champion. As many in the figure skating world know, he is also married to his own former coach, Russia’s Victor Nikiforov. His return to St. Petersburg is shrouded in a bit of mystery, although Christophe had a chance to catch up with him as well.”_

 

Yuuri tensed on the couch, suddenly nervous as Victor tapped a gentle shoulder against his spouse.

 

“Hey. ‘Either you trust Christophe, or you don’t,’” Victor quoted, pressing a kiss against his husband’s temple, earning a half-hearted glare.

 

 _“Skater Katsuki! A moment of your time?_ ”

 

Yuuri’s wide-eyed form appeared onscreen, his lip caught between his teeth in a habitual show of nerves. _“Christophe. Hi, how have you been?_ ” Behind him, Natalie McKenna suddenly appeared, her jutting jaw and stiffened shoulders making her look older than her barely thirty years.

 

 _“Too kind of you to ask Yuuri, I’m well. But inquiring minds are wondering, how are_ you _now that you’re back in St. Petersburg?”_

 

The on-screen Yuuri glanced around before straightening proudly. _“I’m well Christophe. Working on my programs for this season and looking forward to competing.”_

 

 _“Rumor has it that this is your final season,”_ Christophe asked, a sly gleam in his hazel eyes.

 

 _“Hmmm, you’ll have to wait and find out,”_ Yuuri said teasingly, drawing a bark of laughter from the commentator.

 

_“I see you’re drawing inspiration from your husband.”_

 

_“Oh, ah, yes, I suppose so.”_

 

 _“So, why are you here so late? Practice seems to have finished for most of the Russian skaters,”_ Christophe drawled, a flush suddenly flaring on Yuuri’s cheeks.

 

 _“I’m not a Russian skater, Christophe,”_ he pointed out calmly. _“I’m only skating here during public hours_. _If you’ll excuse us, Natalie and I only have a few hours to take advantage of the public sessions.”_ Yuuri and Natalie waved before hastening toward the rink entrance.

 

Christophe’s gaze grew solemn as he glanced back at the camera. _“This is Christophe Giacometti for NBC Sports, wishing luck to the entire St. Petersburg crew, native or not. Back to you Daniela.”_

 

Victor hit pause on the video, silence filling the condo. “Okay. That was… pretty clean, honestly. I can’t see anything Rubina’s crew could throw at us.” Yuuri curled against him, nuzzling into his shoulder. The Russian curled around his spouse. “Sweetheart? I have to go soon. Are you alright?”

 

“Mmmmhmmm,” Yuuri murmured into his shoulder. “Natalie’s meeting me at the gym in a couple hours. I’ll be okay. _You?_ ” His whiskey eyes held Victor’s for a long moment, stern until his lover nodded in fond acquiescence.

 

“I’m fine, love. Things are going to work out, okay?”

 

***

 

Victor tried to hold onto that confidence as he entered the rink later that morning. An expectant hush seemed to hover in the air, his skaters casting surreptitious little glances his way as they all pretended not to see the clustered trio, formal clothes making it clear they didn’t truly belong in the active rink. Unsurprisingly, Chairwoman Rubina stood at the front, Rubinof and Mishin hovering awkwardly behind her. He determinedly fixed his most polite expression to his face, then caught Georgi’s eye in the briefest of nods before making his way over.

 

“Chairwoman, what a pleasant surprise,” he said, proud that there was no trace of sarcasm leaking into his tone. “Have you come to begin my evaluation already?”

 

Rubina blinked at that. “What are you talking about Nikiforov?” Behind her, Councilman Mishin winced.

 

Victor refused to match the woman’s rudeness, allowing a slight smile to spread across his features. “Are you here to evaluate my coaching techniques?” He repeated. “I believe that _is_ part of standard probation procedures, _da?”_ He tapped his lips with a finger, as if in contemplation. “Though… I don’t believe Councilman Mishin and Coach Rubinof constitute a full impartial evaluation committee.” He smiled innocently as Rubina’s eyes widened.

 

“I… that’s not… see here Nikiforov, I will not allow you to make a spectacle of this situation! If you’re willing to toe the line, we can discuss allowing you to stay on in some capacity, but until then, Adrian will continue to supervise this Club in a manner befitting the dignity of this skating federation! You have proven yourself incapable of following the basic rules set forth for you…”

 

“Rules. Which rules, _precisely_ , am I breaking?” Victor’s voice softened, a clue to anyone who knew him that he was at his most dangerous.

 

Rubina spluttered, her face reddening in anger. “You have been absent from this Club for over a month!”

 

“My contract covers the period from June 1st until the end of the World Championships. Traveling during the off-season is not a breach.” His words were mild but pointed as he noticed Rubinof peering at something over his shoulder. He ignored the other man, keeping his gaze on the Chairwoman, ready for her next salvo.

 

“You brought a foreign competitor back to St. Petersburg, despite repeated warnings.”

 

Victor felt his carefully constructed calm begin to crack as he bristled. She demanded respect yet refused to so much as _name_ his husband, let alone acknowledge their relationship. He opened his mouth for a retort but stopped at the hand on his shoulder.

 

“Yuuri Katsuki has not stepped foot in this rink during official training hours since his visit in January. He _paid_ for ice time last night, _despite_ the fact that his husband is still the duly appointed Head Coach at this Club. I’m sure we can find the receipts if you’d like to see them? _Plus,_ he paid rink fees back in January in addition to assisting me with a handful of Junior classes, at no cost to this Club or its skaters. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but guest coaching sessions by top ranked athletes often command rather high prices.” Georgi said mildly from Victor’s side. “And surely, you don’t mean to imply that Yuuri can’t _live_ in St. Petersburg? I didn’t think the FFKK had control over spousal living arrangements. Is that part of the standard coaching contract now?”   

 

Victor swallowed, surprised at the emotion that threatened to overwhelm him at Georgi’s calm support.

 

“This Club has _always_ allowed access to foreign skaters. Yuuri Katsuki trained here for years, Otabek Altin attended summer camps here during his Novice days and has been here for multiple visits during his Senior career, Sara Crispino and Christophe Giacometti both spent time skating here… It fosters a sense of international camaraderie and, quite frankly, allows _our_ younger skaters free access to training techniques and styles that they wouldn’t learn otherwise.” Victor’s tone was placating as he spoke, drawing a look of surprise from both Councilman Mishin and Coach Rubinof. Adrian’s eyes narrowed speculatively, and Victor dared to hope that perhaps the other man wasn’t as close-minded as his aunt.

 

Councilman Mishin cleared his throat tentatively. “Yulya… the comments on that video this morning… people adore Alexei Ivanov… they’re wondering why we aren’t allowing him every possible training opportunity…”

 

“Do _not_ mention that farce of an interview, Boris!” Rubina snapped. “And that is another thing, Nikiforov! What, exactly, was that repugnant fop of a Swiss reporter doing on hand the _day_ you returned?”

 

Victor bristled. “Christophe Giacometti holds ISU credentials, the interview was conducted outside of the Club and Alexei said _nothing_ that violates his contract with the FFKK. Are you suggesting that I ban my skaters from speaking to official ISU sources?”

 

Rubina bared her teeth, beginning to lose her calm. “Whatever _game_ you think you are playing, it will not work.”

 

He flashed a grim smile. “It’s your game Madame Chairwoman, I’m merely _playing_ by the rules you set forth.” He glanced around, noting their audience; Yuri and Mila standing at the front of a cluster of skaters, Katya standing nearby, her arm draped over Alyosha’s shoulders. More than a few sets of eyes were narrowed in anger. He indicated the athletes with a pointed wave of his hand. “With all due respect, we should table this discussion. My skaters have had enough of their practice disrupted for one morning. I’m sure you don’t want that… _especially_ during an Olympic season.”

 

Rubina looked startled, as if she had only then noticed that they weren’t in private. “We will continue this discussion at a later time,” she half-snarled.

 

“With an impartial evaluation committee?” Victor asked mildly, earning a curt nod as Rubina moved to brush past him.

 

Councilman Mishin hesitated as he passed, “I’ll see to it myself,” he murmured before following the Chairwoman, Adrian Rubinof trailing behind him.

 

Victor smiled his first genuine smile since the confrontation began before calling out softly. “Adrian. I could still use your help with the Juniors…” It was a tentative olive branch, he knew, but part of him hoped that the other man would accept.

 

Adrian hesitated, glancing at his aunt’s tense back for a long moment. “Of course,” he finally nodded. “If you’ll give me a few moments to change…?”

 

Victor grinned.

 

***

 

Yuuri flopped onto his back, panting as he glared up at his too chipper coach. “You,” he said between gasps, “Are actually evil. How did I not know this?”

 

Natalie grinned down at him from her half crouch as she bent over, hands on her knees, breathing deeply. “Oh, hush you big baby. I did the same run.”

 

Yuuri rolled his eyes. “You ran the Chicago Marathon last year. For _fun_.”

 

“So much for your stamina,” she teased, poking her tongue out and drawing a huffed laugh from her skater. She held a hand out and helped Yuuri back to his feet. “Okay. Walk for a bit to cool down and then it’s lunchtime. What’s the plan?”

 

“I told Chris we’d do lunch with him, if that’s okay?”

 

“Ooooh, I _finally_ get to officially meet Christophe Giacometti!” Natalie squealed.

 

Yuuri stared at her. “Why do I feel like I’ve made a terrible mistake?” He asked in a deadpan tone, earning himself a prim sniff from his coach. “Besides, I thought you and Georgi…”

 

“Ohmygod, shut _up_! …And we both know I’m not Giacometti’s type,” Natalie huffed. “Get walking Katsuki, no more of your sass!”

 

He laughed as he led the way to the little pub he and Victor used to frequent, sobering as he stepped through the doors. _The last time I was here was with Yuri_ , he thought, remembering the painful day he’d asked for the younger skater’s help in leaving St. Petersburg. _We’ll have to work hard to make new memories in these places…_

 

He was jolted out of the unpleasant thoughts by the sight of Christophe waving from a nearby booth, perched next to Hisashi Morooka. Natalie glanced at him, a question hovering in the arch of her brow. In response, he merely smiled grimly as he led the way to the table. Chris stood and wrapped him in a (slightly overly) familiar hug before offering an elegant hand in Natalie’s direction, prompting her face to suddenly match her brilliant hair. Morooka also rose, offering his own handshake to both skater and coach, a friendly but serious look on his open face.

 

As they settled into their places, Chris leaned forward on his elbows, gaze intent. “I’m assuming you saw the video this morning?”

 

Yuuri nodded, Natalie humming an assent at his side. “It was good. Surprisingly, ah, subtle for you Chris, although I'm going to assume that what aired wasn't the _entire_ interview,” the Japanese skater teased slyly before sobering. “It should ruffle feathers without crossing any lines that could actually get anyone accused of breaking any rules.”

 

Chris and Morooka exchanged a long glance. “The last thing any of us want is to get Victor or his skaters into any further trouble, but no, that wasn't the entire interview. Let's just say Victor was right to be suspicious about Rubina cornering Ivanov at Euros,” the Swiss commentator said smoothly, quirking one eyebrow. “But no, the portion that aired was just intended to get people talking. Hopefully get the right people asking a few questions.”

 

“Such as?” Natalie asked, finally overcoming her starstruck awe in order to enter the fray. “I know that the FFKK is playing fast and loose with Victor right now, but he’s their coach, don’t they technically have the right to determine if he works at one of their sponsored Clubs?”

 

Morooka glanced around to make sure nobody was paying attention to their conversation, then spoke in a low voice. “That’s just the thing Coach McKenna. My sources say that not everybody in the position to _have_ a say is even aware of what’s going on here in St. Petersburg. Coach Nikiforov’s probation never went through the main branch of the FFKK, it came directly from the St. Petersburg branch. No evaluation committee has been formed. Adrian Rubinof was never approved as even a temporary head coach by the Coach’s Council…”

 

Natalie’s eyes widened. “So, this Rubina… she’s doing this without going through the proper channels? Is the ISU aware of this?”

 

“Ah darlings,” Christophe purred as Morooka leaned back with a satisfied smirk. “If they didn’t know something was up before now, I have a feeling they’ll be finding out. Soon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year! Hope you enjoyed this extra long update (long for me anyway!)
> 
> Up Next: Rubina's motivations are finally revealed. 
> 
> Thank you all for hanging out with me last year, I hope that 2019 brings us lots of lovely fics and Ice: Adolescence happiness! 
> 
> 2019 Goals:
> 
> I'll be launching a new fic in the next few days, I hope you'll check it out. _The World Where You Exist_ has been in the works since October and will be posting twice a week. Featuring boybands, skating, terrible communication skills and slightly younger Victuuri! 
> 
> Also upcoming: The return of Reclaim the Stars, the final arc of Podiums and Pedestals and an archaeology AU very loosely inspired by a Broadway musical!
> 
> Peace, Love and Victuuri for all!


	19. Showdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything finally comes to a head.

**June 12th, 2021, St. Petersburg**

 

Yuri loathed clichés. Hell, he loathed a lot of things, but still, clichés fucking sucked. And yet…

 

“It’s too quiet, I don’t like that we haven’t heard anything from the FFKK yet,” he muttered, breaking the silence that had settled over Victor and Yuuri’s dinner table. Natalie, Georgi and Mila joined the couple in staring at him, startled. He stared back, a challenge in his emerald eyes.

 

Finally, the silence was broken.

 

 _“It’s quiet. Too quiet,”_ Yuuri deadpanned before breaking into a hiccuping giggle.

 

Yuri rolled his eyes. “Vitya, your husband had too much sake, make him drink some water or some shit before he starts taking his pants off.” Of course, Victor, being the gross fuck that he is, positively _beamed_ at the prospect.  “Dammit, never mind. Oi, Katsudon! Leave your fucking pants on!”

 

Yuuri blinked owlishly, cuddling against his husband’s side. With a chuckle, Victor pecked the Japanese skater’s forehead before standing and hauling the tipsy man to his feet. “I’ll be back in a minute,” he said with a wink towards his guests.

 

Mila and Natalie leaned together, giggling, after the men departed. “H-how long do you actually think it’ll take before Victor can tear himself away?” Mila gasped, Natalie collapsing against her side with a snort.

 

Georgi glanced fondly at the American coach. “I think it’s rather sweet, honestly.”

 

Yuri snorted in derision. “God, I’m surrounded by romantics. Save me,” he said flatly, drawing another round of giggles from the women. He couldn’t help the tiny twitch of his lips that Mila immediately latched onto.

 

“Yuri Plisetsky, don’t pretend you don’t think they’re sweet, too,” she teased, pouring him another shot of the vodka they’d been passing around.  

 

“Not sweet, fucking gross,” he grumbled, ignoring the knowing looks thrown his way. Deflecting, he shot a glare in Natalie’s direction. “Shouldn’t you, like, control him or something?”  

 

The redheaded American giggled. “I’m his coach, not his _boss_. Yuuri knows his limits; knows when he needs to focus and when he can cut loose a little.” Her mood sobered. “He’s got months before his first competition and things have been stressful. He’s having to work twice as hard to keep up with his training because he refuses to leave St. Petersburg. Until things are sorted out so that he can have regular access to a rink, things are going to be a little rough for him. I’m not going to begrudge him the opportunity to relax a little bit.”

 

Yuri flushed, feeling a twinge of guilt.

 

Natalie smiled to soften her words. “It’s okay Yuri, he _chose_ to be here. It’s just a lot, you know?”

 

“It is,” came Victor’s voice, startling the remaining quartet. The Russian coach was leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, looking significantly more exhausted than he’d seemed earlier.

 

“Yuuri?” Natalie queried softly.

 

“Sleeping, thankfully,” Victor sighed. “He hasn’t gotten much rest the last week.” He moved towards the table, straddling his vacated chair and holding his empty glass entreatingly in Mila’s direction. She obligingly splashed liquor into the cup.

 

“Have _you_ gotten any sleep since you’ve been back?” Georgi asked, a knowing glint in his pale eyes.

 

Victor huffed a rueful laugh. “No. Which probably isn’t helping Yuuri’s sleep pattern,” he admitted. “He’s always been sensitive to my moods. I’d almost forgotten…” he trailed off with a murmur, a wistful smile gracing his fair features. An awkward silence descended.

 

“Vitya,” Georgi started, his voice tentative. “If you two need anything…”

 

“I know,” Victor interrupted, his voice overly sharp. “Thank you, Gosha. I do know…” He smiled to soften his tone. “Sorry, it’s just… until they… until _she_ makes a move, I feel like I’m in a holding pattern. In the meantime, all I can do is toe the line and do my job the best I can. And hope that that’s good enough…”

 

Mila stood and moved the handful of steps to where the silver-haired legend slouched. She wrapped her arms around him in a bracing hug. “You’re a good coach Vitya, don’t doubt that, please?”

 

Victor rested his chin atop her flaming locks, his eyes meeting Yuri’s.

 

The young skater nodded curtly. “ _Da._ What she said. This whole thing is a bunch of political bullshit anyway. Let Chulanont go after those fuckers, betcha they’ll stop draggin’ their damned heels then. The FFKK _hates_ to be embarrassed. That whole ‘istandwithvictor’ hashtag got their attention real quick, do it again.”

 

All three coaches were shaking their heads even before Yuri finished speaking. “Phichit’s kind of like… a weapon of last resort,” Natalie said gently. “The whole point of toeing the line right now is so that the FFKK doesn’t have any ammunition against Victor. Coach Feltsman’s our best bet right now, he has connections within the FFKK, and he’s well respected.”

 

Victor was nodding as she spoke. “It’s true, Yura. Trust me, I hate that it’s taking so long too, but a week really isn’t that terrible in the scheme of things. Chairwoman Rubina expected me to roll over and accept her terms, she _never_ meant for my probation to go through the proper channels. By forcing her to follow the official procedures, we’ve stuck her on the defensive. Yakov says she’s been lurking around the Moscow branch of the FFKK, probably trying to drum up support. A lot of the higher ups weren’t even fully aware of what was going on here in St. Petersburg. We can use that to our advantage.”

 

Yuri caught a strange glint in Victor’s eyes as he spoke. “There’s something you aren’t telling us… there’s more to Rubina’s actions, isn’t there?” he demanded.

 

Victor flashed a feral grin. “Let’s just say I think there’s a _reason_ the dear Chairwoman doesn’t like Yuuri. And I fully intend to make sure it comes to light.”

 

**June 17 th, 2021, St. Petersburg**

_*bzzBzzzbZzzzz*_

 

Victor grimaced as he felt his phone vibrate yet again. He caught Georgi’s eye and the brunette moved to take his place by the boards, a watchful eye on Alyosha and Yura’s jump practice. As he moved away from the rink, he fished his phone out and flipped through his notifications, eyes widening at the missed calls. Quickly, he thumbed the call icon, biting his lip nervously as he waited for the call to connect.

 

“Vitya! What’s the use of having the damned thing if you never actually _answer_ your phone?” Yakov demanded.

 

“And hello to you too, Yakov,” Victor murmured. “You know for a fact you’d have confiscated my phone if you’d ever caught me answering it at the rink.”

 

“When you were my skater, yes. The situation is different now and you _know_ it.”

 

Victor sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’m here now, Yakov. What’s going on?” The long silence made his gut clench nervously.

 

“They formed a probation committee,” Yakov admitted. “They’re on their way to the Club now.”

 

He wasn’t sure whether he should be relieved or terrified. Finally, months of friction would be resolved, one way or another.  “Rubina?” he asked, mouth dry.

 

“She’s not on the committee. Seems she’s not considered a neutral party,” Yakov said, voice humming with satisfaction.

 

Victor sagged in relief. “ _Thank_ you, Yakov,” he breathed.

 

“Don’t thank me yet, boy,” came his former coach’s voice, echoing in the hallway as well as through his ear piece. He glanced up, catching Yakov’s eye at the end of the hall.

 

“Are… you part of the committee?”

 

Yakov snorted as he tucked his phone into the pocket of his dark trench coat. “As if they’d consider me a neutral party. No, Chairwoman Rubina insisted on being present as a witness, I’m here to counterbalance her influence.” He strode past Victor, clapping the younger man on the shoulder as he headed toward the rink. “Come, you should run your practice like normal. That is what they will be evaluating. Your focus, your abilities as a coach, how your skaters and assistants respond to your direction… _she_ wants to convince them that you are distracted by your husband’s presence,” he paused, staring straight into Victor’s eyes. “Do not prove her right, Vitya.”

 

***

 

Alexei sipped nervously from his water bottle, eyes wide as he surveyed the cluster of dark clad officials. He vaguely recognized a couple of them, Mishin and Rubina, and of course Coach Yakov was familiar to him, but the rest were unknowns. He was determined to do his coach and his friends proud though, so he had to be brave. Setting the bottle down, he offered a tentative smile.

 

The woman who seemed to be in charge flashed her teeth in response. “Mr. Ivanov, there’s no need to be nervous, we’re just here to make sure you’re receiving the best possible training. My name is Anna Kordova, I’m a Vice President of the FFKK and I’ve been following your career. I think you have a very bright future skating for Russia, and I’m just here to make sure that you have all the tools you need to succeed.” Her voice was soothing and motherly, causing Alexei to instinctively relax. “Can you tell us a little bit about how you feel about your training right now?”

 

“O-oh!” he stammered. “I like training here! Um, I used to work with Coach Feltsman, but I’ve been with Coach Victor for more than a year now, ever since my Senior debut. I, um, I got bronze at the NHK trophy last year and I was sixth at Worlds, so, um, things are good?” He smiled gamely. “I got lots of new sponsors this year, and Yuri and Otabek Altin took me to dinner at Europeans, which was lots of fun, and I got to see Yuuri again…” he stumbled to a stop, panicking. Should he have mentioned Yuuri?

 

Vice President Kordova smiled reassuringly at him. “It sounds like you had a good year then. Have you been working on any new techniques?”

 

He latched onto the opening. “Oh! Yes! I’ve been landing my quad salchow almost 50% of the time the last couple months! I’m planning to add it to my repertoire in time for the Grand Prix series!”

 

A few of the FFKK officials chuckled at his enthusiasm, although he caught Chairwoman Rubina glaring slightly in his direction. He hunched his shoulders instinctively, remembering the way the woman had cornered him before Yuri and Otabek had rescued him at Europeans. Vice President Kordova seemed to notice the change in his mood, pursing her lips consideringly.

 

“I’m glad to hear that, Alexei,” she said softly. “Perhaps we could talk a little more later? Just the two of us? I’m a big fan you know,” she finished with a gentle smile.

 

Alexei relaxed and nodded shyly, relieved as the group moved away, Coach Feltsman trailing slightly behind. The gruff older man gave him a brief nod of approval as he passed, sending relief coursing through his veins. He’d done his best for his coach and his rink mates, now all he could do was get back to practicing.

 

***

“I mean, of course it’s an honor to work at such a prestigious Club,” Katya confessed with a sheepish grin, “But Victor and Georgi are a dream to work with. I was an assistant coach at one of the Moscow clubs for two years before Coach Feltsman hired me shortly before he retired. Before I transferred here, I was only working with Novices, but Victor’s had me leading the Juniors from day one, and I serve as lead assistant coach alongside Georgi for some of the Senior level competitions as well. I served as Mila Babicheva’s coach when she took gold at Skate Canada last year; it was an amazing experience and it meant the world that both Victor and Mila trusted me to handle it.”

 

***

 

“Well, _yeah_ , I was pi… uh, _mad_ , when Yakov announced that he was retiring. But if I have to be coached by _some_ one, then it’s going to be Victor. Obviously, I’d prefer it to be here, but if he ends up coaching somewhere else, then I guess I’ll train somewhere else.”

 

Vice President Kordova looked slightly startled at Yuri’s pronouncement. “Goodness, why would he coach somewhere else?”

 

Chairwoman Rubina snorted from where she stood next to Yakov. Kordova and the other members of the evaluation committee stared.

 

“Did you have an observation, Yulya?” the vice president asked mildly.

 

“The boy practically admitted that Nikiforov has no intention of staying on here. It’s as I said, he’s planning on going back to Japan to coach his paramour. Worse, he intends on putting _our_ top skater at risk by disrupting his training and forcing him to change rinks!”

 

Yuri cast a scathingly dismissive glance in her direction before turning back to Kordova. “Victor practically grew up at this rink. The last thing he wants is to be forced to leave it. And Katsuki would never want to be the reason Victor loses his home, why do you think he’s running himself ragged to make sure his training doesn’t come close to interfering with the rink schedule OR Victor’s schedule?” Hooking a thumb towards Rubina, he leaned closer to the vice president. “And she seems convinced that Katsuki’s going to somehow sabotage this Club. But ask Alexei who taught him the triple flip. Go ask Mila where she learned the entrance for her triple axel.”

 

He stared directly at Rubina, raising his voice slightly. “And maybe ask yourself why the first time I broke a world record was the season I spent a week training under Victor, side by side with Yuuri Katsuki.”

 

***

 

“He’s… not what I expected,” Adrian Rubinof admitted softly, a nervous hand ruffling the hair on the back of his neck. “I… I thought he’d be this arrogant ex-champion who didn’t have any real coaching abilities…” He flushed, refusing to meet his aunt’s gaze.

 

“I was wrong.”

 

***

Victor couldn’t help the prickling sensation that kept crawling up the back of his neck. The probation committee, minus Vice President Kordova, were standing a few feet behind him, watching as he ran Mila through her step sequences. Yakov leaned on the rink beside him, Yuri bracketing him on the other side, water bottle dangling from his teeth.

 

“Easy, boy, no need to fret, your Club did you proud today,” the older man said under his breath.

 

Victor let himself slump slightly in relief as he called for Mila to begin again. “Kordova’s been talking to Alyosha for an awfully long time,” he murmured.

 

Yakov grunted in satisfaction. “I think Rubina should be more concerned about that than you, Vitya.”

 

Movement from the corner of his eye had the trio straightening as Vice President Kordova made her way towards the group, her arm slung casually over Alexei’s shoulders.

 

“Madame Vice President,” Victor said in respectful greeting, offering his hand.

 

The FFKK official laughed as she took his hand. “Please, so formal! I feel like some old government official. Ms. Kordova is fine. Or Anya.” Several pairs of eyes widened in surprise as she continued. “I’ve just been having the most interesting conversation with young Alyosha here. I think he’s going to make us all very proud.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Victor started, feeling slightly stunned at her friendly demeanor. “He’s incredibly talented. Once we get his technicals up to par with his pcs scores, he’ll be a force to reckon with.”

 

She tilted her head to the side in consideration. “Hmmm, yes, well I believe we have your husband to thank for some of his presentation scores, _da_?”

 

“Ahhh…”

 

She smiled broadly as she shook his hand one last time. “I’m sure you’ll have the results of our evaluation very shortly, Mr. Nikiforov. We’re expecting great things out of the St. Petersburg Skate Club this season!”

 

“Ah, yes ma’am,” he said with a slightly bewildered smile as Kordova and her contingent turned to leave, a scowling Rubina trailing in their wake.

 

“Oh! And Victor,” the vice president called from near the door. “Do be sure to give my best to Mr. Katsuki!”

 

As the officials exited, Yuri whirled, staring between Alexei and the still swinging doors.

 

“Holy shit, kid. What the _fuck_ did you _say_ to her?”

 

**June 19 th, 2021, St. Petersburg**

 

Two slender figures bolted upright in bed at the sound of both of their phones buzzing incessantly with alerts. Victor reached his first, all trace of sleep vanishing from his face when he caught sight of the name on the caller id screen. He scrambled away from the bedroom, thumbing the accept key as Yuuri snagged his own from the nightstand, eyes widening at the flurry of notifications and texts. Catching Chris’ name among the assortment, he thumbed through the skater-turned-reporter’s messages as he scrambled to pull on a t-shirt and made his way toward the living room in time to hear the end of Victor’s own call, the muttered Russian too quick for him to catch more than a snippet.

 

The tall silver-blond dropped the hand pressing the phone to his ear, his shoulders held rigidly for a long moment, a worrying sight to his already anxious spouse.

 

“Vitya?” He asked, a tentative hand moving to brush the fine strands away from Victor’s face. The Russian caught the hand, nuzzling into it with sparkling eyes as a grin spread across his handsome face.

 

“Probation lifted!” He whispered in fierce joy, drawing Yuuri in for a gleeful hug. “And as long as you maintain your own coach and are willing to provide occasional assistance with the Juniors, you have full access to the club.” He spun giddily, lifting the shorter man in the air for a brief second.

 

Yuuri laughed happily when they stopped, pulling his husband down for a fierce kiss. “You did it, love,” he murmured, pressing their foreheads together.

 

Victor shook his head, “No, this was a team effort. _We_ did this.”

 

Yuuri smiled up at him, then remembered his own messages and scrambled out of the embrace and towards where he’d left his laptop on the kitchen table. “Oh! Quick, Chris is live!” He pulled up the link Chris had forwarded, finding their friend standing in front of the St. Petersburg Skate Club mid-broadcast.”

 

_“… no word yet whether there is any connection to Yulya Rubina’s resignation this morning from her positions as Chairwoman of the FFKK’s Coaching Council and head of the St. Petersburg Skating Federation. We’ve reached out to both the FFKK and ISU for comment and will update you with more on this developing story. In the meantime, I’m Christophe Giacometti with NBCSports, signing off.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post on Wednesday and completely blanked it! As an apology, I included the first snippet of the next chapter to make this an extra long update!
> 
> Up Next: Actions have consequences. Lots of fluff. Yuri Plisetsky is a not-so-secret softie. 
> 
> I finally hopped on Twitter, so feel free to bug me over there! @SongbirdsaraW (Songbirdsara_Writes)
> 
> Plus, finally launched the story I've been working on for the last few months, check out the first few chapters of  
>  _[The World Where You Exist](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17288099/chapters/40659257)_ , my first attempt at a 'getting together' story featuring boy bands, skating and all the miscommunication our boys are capable of!


	20. Those Meddling Kids...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuuri's return to the St. Petersburg skate club is overshadowed by a visitor who comes bearing some... relevant information.

**June 21 st, 2021, St. Petersburg**

 

He’d be lying if he said standing in front of the doors to the St. Petersburg Skate Club flanked by Victor and Natalie didn’t feel like a victory. From the bright smiles on his husband’s and coach’s faces, he wasn’t the only one feeling that way this morning. As Victor held open the doors, ushering the younger pair inside, Yuuri caught the sound of footsteps behind them, followed by the unmistakable click of a camera app. He turned, surprised to see Mila, Alexei and Yuri standing in the parking lot, Yuri smirking slightly as he fiddled with his phone.

 

“Good morning!” Mila called out with a smile as the trio hurried to catch up. They entered the club in a cluster, Mila and Natalie linking arms as the men followed behind more slowly.

 

“Playing paparazzi, Yura?” Yuuri asked curiously, nodding toward the phone still clutched in the younger man’s hand.

 

“Promised Hamster Boy I’d document your glorious return,” the blond drawled nonchalantly, the sarcasm not quite hiding the hint of pride sparkling in his jewel-bright eyes.

 

Yuuri gave the other skater a tentative side hug. “Thanks for your help, Yura. We wouldn’t have been able to do this without you.” To his immense surprise, he felt an arm around his shoulder as Yuri briefly returned the embrace.

 

“Yeah, whatever, it’s cool,” Yuri said as he dropped his arm and stared resolutely forward, a hint of a blush on his high cheekbones.

 

Victor caught Yuuri’s eye with a sly grin before directing his attention on his student. “Yuuura! You never hug _me_ like that!”

 

“Ohmygod, I fucking regret _everything,”_ Yuri said with a huff as he hurried to catch up to the girls, leaving Yuuri and Victor laughing in his wake as Alexei watched in confusion.  

 

The group came to a halt outside the cluster of coaching offices where Georgi was leaning against one of the doors. Beaming, he moved to the side, revealing the name plaque bearing Natalie’s name. Victor grinned as he pulled a set of keys from his pocket and presented them to the red-headed coach with a gallant bow. “Coach McKenna, your rink and office keys. They are sorely overdue. Please accept our apologies for the delay and a very sincere welcome from the entire staff and skate crew.”

 

Natalie took the keys with a shaking hand. “Holy shit, I have an office at the St. Petersburg Skate Club,” she whispered, looking slightly overwhelmed as she accepted a round of hugs and handshakes from the skaters and coaches. Everyone politely pretended not to notice that Georgi’s hug lingered a good bit longer than the others. She collected herself as she unlocked the door, flashing a steely gaze at her student. “I’ll see you on the ice in 15, Katsuki,” she said with a grin as she finally entered the office, dropping her bag onto the bare desk.  Yuuri laughed as he and the other skaters moved toward the locker rooms, Victor and Georgi waving as they peeled off to their own offices to prepare for the day’s practice sessions.

 

Yuuri slung his arm loosely over Alexei’s shoulders as they walked, earning a cheerful grin from the teenage skater.

 

“I’m glad you’re back,” the boy murmured as they broke apart to enter the men’s locker room. He hesitated as he settled his gear bag onto a bench, looking uncertain for a moment. “It… Coach Victor… things weren’t the same when you were gone. So… yeah. I’m just, I’m glad you’re back.” He ducked his head, blushing as he quickly pulled on his gloves and warm up jacket.

 

The door to the locker room creaked open and Yuuri glanced up, catching the eyes of the unfamiliar man who had entered.

 

“Plisetsky. Ivanov. Coach Popovich is running you through warm-ups today. Let’s get moving, Babicheva’s already beaten you to the ice,” the man ordered, his eyes lingering on Yuuri. Alexei hastened to obey, his wide eyes slightly panicky. Yuri followed more sedately, hesitating near the door as the older man made no motion to exit. The blond skater glanced between Yuuri and the man, clearly uncertain about leaving them alone together.

 

“I mean no harm to your friend, Yuri,” the man murmured, his eyes moving to hold the Russian skater’s gaze.  Yuri hesitated for another moment, then nodded.

 

“I’ll see you out there Katsudon,” he called back to Yuuri. With a wave, and a last glare at the… coach? … he finally exited.  Yuuri swallowed, slightly unnerved by the exchange. He had a feeling that he was finally meeting Coach Rubinof. With the man’s aunt in a state of unexplained disgrace with the FFKK, it was easy to believe the man might hold a grudge against him, even if Rubinof had unexpectedly backed Victor in the end.

 

“Katsuki,” the stranger said. “Adrian Rubinof. I expect we’ll be seeing a lot of each other now, _da?”_

 

Yuuri nodded, nervously.  “It seems likely, yes,” he said hesitantly.

 

Adrian grimaced slightly. “You are a very talented competitor. I am… sorry… that your welcome to St. Petersburg was not what it could have been. I was under, perhaps, an incorrect perception of you… but I bear you no ill will.” He strode forward a few steps, holding his hand out. Yuuri took it with a firm grasp.

 

“Victor has spoken well of you, the last week or so. Let me know if I can help you with any of your Junior skaters.”

 

“I will. There are several who could perhaps use a demonstration of your edgework, if you perhaps have time in the next few weeks?”

 

Yuuri nodded. “Of course. I’m sorry to cut this short, but I should head out, my coach is expecting me…” he trailed off as Adrian shook his head.

 

“I’m sorry, I should have said already. Coach McKenna and Coach Nikiforov are meeting with Vice President Kordova in Victor’s office. I was sent to ask you to join them.”

 

***

 

It was a little strange that he kept ending up on the wrong side of his own desk, Victor thought, amusement warring with nerves as he fought to keep his knee from bouncing under Vice Pres… _Anya’s_ strangely grandmotherly gaze. Natalie flashed him a sympathetic smile that soon broadened as Yuuri thunked his way into the room, skates and guards already donned in preparation for practice.

 

The FFKK official leaned forward, gesturing graciously towards the empty seat as Yuuri turned slightly panicked eyes in Victor’s direction. Anya smiled graciously at the Japanese skater as Victor laced his fingers with his husband’s in reassurance.

 

“Mr. Katsuki, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

A skeptical look crossed Yuuri’s face. “It… is?”

 

The FFKK official chuckled. “Yes, actually. I’ve always enjoyed your skating, even if many of my colleagues believe you to be a bit of a thorn in the side of Russian figure skating glory.” She paused delicately before continuing. “Which actually brings me to the reason for my visit.”

 

Victor straightened in his seat, clutching a little harder at Yuuri’s hand even as he kept his expression neutral. “I’ll admit, I _am_ rather curious. We spoke over the weekend when you lifted my probation. I wasn’t anticipating seeing you again quite so soon.”

 

Anya shook her head, her brow furrowed. “Quite honestly, I hadn’t originally planned on visiting the St. Petersburg Club again quite so soon either. However, more information has come to light regarding this situation and you deserve to hear it from an official source before media and rumor hopelessly muddles the truth.” She leaned forward, steepling her fingers on the desk top. “Coach Nikiforov, your probation was lifted for several reasons. The accusations leveled against your leadership were determined to be unfounded based on our observations and interviews with your club members. But… the probation was improperly filed in the first place. The decision was made by the leaders of the St. Petersburg Federation, which is not unusual, but what _is_ unusual is that the announcement of the probation was made prior to formally filing the paperwork with the main branch of the FFKK.”

 

Victor blinked. “So… there was a filing error? But if she had filed the paperwork before sending the announcements to the media and the ISU, the end result would have been the same. I’d still have been under probation…”

 

Anya was already nodding. “True. But it was odd enough that we felt the need to look more closely at the situation here in St. Petersburg, especially since it involved _you_. You’re still rather popular within the skating community, both here and abroad. Anything that involves you would automatically have come under scrutiny.” She leaned back slightly, glancing between Yuuri and Natalie. “I’m not certain how familiar Mr. Katsuki and Ms. McKenna are with the Russian Skating Federation, but each branch acts more or less autonomously, with oversight and occasional check-ins from the head branch in Moscow. This includes things such as financial audits…” she said, raising an eloquent eyebrow as she trailed off.

 

Victor cleared his throat. “Am I to understand that there were irregularities in more than just my probation paperwork?”

 

The FFKK official graced him with an indulgent smile. “Clever lad. Yes. Our suspicions were already heightened after the unusual issues with your probation. Yulya Rubina has always run a tight ship, so the discrepancy was notable. Dear Yakov raised quite a fuss over sending a proper probation evaluation committee, but we were a bit surprised with Boris Mishin followed suit, as he has always been Yulya’s… _hmmmm…_ right hand man, let’s say.” She leaned forward again, placing a hand on Victor’s shoulder. “Victor, you are respected and well-liked by the members of this club. As is your husband,” she added, nodding in Yuuri’s direction. “We found no justification for the accusation that Mr. Katsuki is a distraction and detriment to this Club. We did, however, find Alexei Ivanov’s testimony of particular interest.”

 

“I’d noticed that you spoke with him rather closely,” Victor admitted.

 

Anya nodded solemnly. “Yes. I hope he wasn’t alarmed, he’s a rather charming young man. But he detailed an encounter with Yulya that deeply concerned myself and those to whom I reported.” She hesitated. “Please understand that what I am about to tell you three does not leave this room until I say otherwise.” She waited until she had their nods of assent. “Young Alexei described an encounter that was, at its core, a barely concealed attempt at bribery from Rubina. She offered to personally connect him with lucrative sponsorship opportunities in return for any information he could share regarding any contact made between Mr. Katsuki and yourself, Victor. Especially if those encounters occurred during competitions or on FFKK owned premises.”

 

“That absolute bi…” Victor bit his tongue, cutting off the expletive when Yuuri squeezed his hand in warning.

 

“She attempted to bribe a _child_ ,” Natalie gasped, horrified.

 

Anya grimaced. “You can imagine my… _concern_ at this allegation. I spoke at length with Boris Mishin following our time here at the rink. He is listed as the chief financial officer for the St. Petersburg Federation but he admitted that for the last several years Yulya had been handling the internal audits and passing them off to him to submit to Moscow. This was alarming, especially given the attempted bribing of young Ivanov. We had our own financial team go through the St. Petersburg records with a fine-toothed comb. As I feared, there are... discrepancies. More specifically, there are discrepancies involving a significant amount of missing funds starting a little over three years ago.”

 

She fell silent, something in her face seeming to convey that they should find this timing important. Victor glanced at his husband, who looked thoughtful, his brow furrowed.

 

“PyeongChang,” Yuuri finally muttered. “PyeongChang was a little over three years ago.”

 

“Indeed,” Vice President Kordova agreed. “We’re still investigating, but it seems logical to surmise that there is a link between the PyeongChang Olympics and the missing funds.”

 

“Pardon me ma’am, but if this is all still conjecture… why are you telling us any of this?” Natalie tentatively queried.

 

“The three of you were directly injured by the actions of a member of the FFKK. That the actions seem to represent a personal grudge at best and, well, a financial scandal at worst, is a black mark against our entire Federation. We extend our apologies and well wishes to you all in the coming season,” she said with a smile before standing and extending her hand in farewell.

 

Dazed, the younger trio followed suit, exchanging handshakes before the official bustled out of the office, leaving them slightly stunned.

 

“…Okay, what the hell just _happened?”_ Natalie asked as she collapsed back into her seat.

 

“Politics,” Victor groaned. “The FFKK kissing ass in the hopes that we won’t raise any further fuss over this situation. Giving us just enough information to make us feel like we’re ‘in the loop’ without actually officially admitting to anything.”

 

Yuuri was quiet, looking contemplative as he settled onto the edge of the desk. “I… I think she told us more than you realize. Missing funds, the Olympics, a cover-up and some sort of personal grudge against us…”

 

“Yuuri? What are you thinking, love?”

 

The Japanese champion held his husband’s gaze. “I’m thinking that St. Petersburg had two top rated men’s skaters poised to take gold in PyeongChang.”

 

Natalie whistled lowly. “And one Japanese skater who upset all sort of odds when he won instead…”

 

**June 24 th, 2021, St. Petersburg**

“…so all they’ve really confirmed is that Boris Mishin is temporarily taking over the St. Petersburg Skating Federation until a permanent solution is found. And, of course, Yakov has taken the reins over at the Coach’s Council.” Chris was saying as Yuuri and Natalie joined the group already seated around the pub booth.

 

Yuuri dropped a quick kiss to Victor’s upturned lips as he sat, turning inquisitive eyes in Chris’ direction. “So, the press conference was a bust?”

 

The Swiss journalist rolled his eyes. “It was purely for appearances. Yulya Rubina’s FFKK and ISU credentials have been permanently revoked and a team is investigating allegations of misconduct including bribery and mishandling of FFKK funds. We’ll be updated if the investigation yields any concrete information.”

 

Yuri Plisetsky snorted derisively. “So never. They know what happened to the funds. They just don’t want to publicly admit that a top official was gambling on their own skaters.”

 

“She always seemed so straight-laced… by the books…” Mila mused.

 

Hisashi Morooka shrugged from Christophe’s side. “She’s not the first to fall into this sort of trap. In my experience, it’s often the people you least expect.”

 

“No wonder she had such a fucking grudge against foreign skaters on her turf. Explains why she was so hell bent on keeping Vitya’s focus on Russian skaters _and_ on making Katsudon’s life such a living hell. ” Yuri pointed out, earning murmurs of agreement from around the table.

 

“Likely trying to get back the funds before her superiors finally noticed,” Chris offered.

 

“I can’t believe she thought she’d get away with it…” Yuuri murmured, brow crinkled.

 

Victor smiled softly. “Honestly, love, if we hadn’t worked things out between us… she very well might have gotten away with it. Everything would all have come down to who wins in Beijing.”

 

Georgi beamed, his eyes glowing. “How romantic! Your love literally saved the day!”

 

Several wadded-up napkins were flung at the coach as half of the table groaned.

 

Yuuri leaned his head on Victor’s shoulder with a grin. “I’m just glad it’s over. Now we can actually move on with the season. Beijing will be here before we know it…”

 

“Yeah, I don’t want my Olympic gold overshadowed by some shitty controversy,” Yuri replied with a smirk.

 

“I believe you mean _my_ Olympic gold,” Yuuri said, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

 

Yuri’s smirk widened into a fierce grin. “Bring it on Katsudon, bring it on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! Don't gamble with money that doesn't belong to you, folks! (I deliberately left Rubina's motivations slightly ambiguous, but yes, she's more than a bit xenophobic to start with, exacerbated by feeling like our Yuuri is to blame with her being in deep financial trouble.)
> 
> Aaaaaand we're off to the final arc of this story! It's Yuuri versus Yuri for one final season! Thank you for coming with me on this crazy journey. It's almost exactly a year since I posted the first chapter of Once and Future Kings and now I'm racing towards the finish of the sequel. It's been an absolute joy to write for this fandom, I hope to continue entertaining you for a while yet!


	21. Calm Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The St. Petersburg skate crew prepares for the Grand Prix Series.

**August 2nd, 2021, St. Petersburg**

 

The afternoon of the Grand Prix placement announcements found the entire St. Petersburg contingent, native _and_ foreign, crowded around the slightly outdated projector screen in the club’s lounge. The coaches were laden with notebooks, the skaters crossing their fingers for favorable placements. For the Yu(u)ris, there was a particular intensity to their watchful poses, knowing that they wouldn’t compete until at least the Final thanks to their podium placements at the previous one.

 

Georgi fiddled with the computer for a moment, reloading the ISU page before letting out a small exclamation of triumph. The list popped up on the wall, sounds of excitement and disappointment filling the room as the group eagerly scanned through the list.

 

At Victor’s side, Natalie hummed in satisfaction. “I’ve always wanted to do the NHK, I’m glad Yuuri’s been placed there,” she muttered in an aside as she closed her portfolio with a snap.

 

“I’m not surprised, honestly,” Victor replied. “I’d imagine the JSF requested their star skater for the event. It’s an Olympic season and they have to know he’s retiring soon…”

 

Natalie looked unhappy for a brief moment before her expression settled into its typical affability.

 

Victor blinked in surprise. “You don’t like the idea of him retiring.”

 

The redhead shook her head. “Don’t get me wrong, I think it’ll be the end of an era when he bows out, but no… it’s time, I get that.” Her eyes flicked toward Georgi.

 

He nodded in understanding. “You know, after this season, you’ll have a solid enough resume to coach pretty much wherever you want.”

 

She brightened at that, nodding slightly. “Have to get through this season first though. It should be interesting,” she said with a grin, jutting her chin towards where Yuuri and Yuri were locked into a fierce conversation.

 

He laughed. _God, yes._ This season would certainly be interesting.

 

***

 

Yuuri waved farewell to the rest of the skaters and coaches as he and Victor made their way through the parking lot to Victor’s car.  His husband was quieter than usual as their hands tangled between the seats on the quick drive back to their condo.

 

“What is it?” he murmured when they were finally settled on the living room couch.

 

Victor sighed, leaning his head against Yuuri’s shoulder.  “Nothing bad, I promise, love. Just trying to sort out the coaching schedule for this year.”

 

“Ah,” Yuuri said, understanding dawning. “You have skaters at almost every Grand Prix event this year…”

 

“Exactly. Toss in the Juniors and we’re spread a bit thin,” Victor pursed his lips, still lost in thought. “Last year I had Katya handle most of the Juniors, but we only had a few events to worry about. We had more skaters qualify this year, which is good, but I can’t put that all on Katya without pulling her from all of the Senior events which wouldn’t be fair to her…”

 

“Hasn’t Adrian coached Junior pairs through Grand Prix events before?” Yuuri pointed out. “Let him handle those events, that frees Katya up to help with the Seniors more. Unless you still don’t trust him?”

 

Victor shook his head. “No, Adrian Rubinof has more than earned his place at the Club. You’re right, there’s no reason not to hand the Junior pairs off to him on a more permanent basis. Then Katya can accompany Mila to Skate Canada, and Georgi and I can focus on the other events.” He nodded decisively, pleased with the solution.

 

Yuuri fiddled absently with Victor’s long, pale fingers for a moment. “So… which events will you attend?” he asked, aiming for a nonchalant tone. As usual, it didn’t fool his lover.

 

Victor sat up, pressing a kiss against the side of Yuuri’s head. “Yuri’s been assigned to Rostelecom and Skate America. I promised him we’d get the flip down before Beijing, so I want to stay with him as much as possible. Mila and Alexei are going to Rostelecom as well, so that’s a no brainer.”

 

Yuuri snorted. “Seriously, the FFKK could be a little less obvious about pushing for their home skaters.”

 

Victor laughed, then raised a teasing eyebrow. “Says the man assigned to the NHK.”

 

Yuuri blushed. “ _Anyways_ , you did three events plus the Final last year…”

 

Victor nodded thoughtfully. “I did. And I’ll do three again this year. Alexei is assigned to the Cup of China, I’ll accompany him.”

 

Yuuri hummed, mildly disappointed. “I was hoping to have my husband there for at least _one_ of my qualifiers…”

 

“Hmmmm, I’m sorry love. You aren’t assigned to any of the same qualifiers as Alyosha or Mila or Yura this year… I have to do my job, _solnyshko._ Although, I admit I _may_ have had ulterior motives with a couple of my competition choices last year…” he added slyly, bumping his shoulder against his spouse’s.

 

Yuuri laughed, a high, delighted bubble of a thing. “Ulterior motives. That’s a strange way of saying you were thinking with your…”

 

“Heart,” Victor interrupted primly. “I was thinking with my heart, Katsuki Yuuri, how dare you insinuate otherwise!”

 

The Japanese skater smirked and leaned over to kiss the pout off Victor’s lovely face. He let the kiss linger, forgetting the previous conversation as he dipped his hands teasingly low, brushing the edge of Victor’s waistband. Victor moaned into his mouth and Yuuri pulled away, admiring the way desire had blown the sea-blue eyes nearly black. “Still thinking with your heart?” he hummed as he moved to pull the shirt over Victor’s silver locks.

 

When Victor reemerged from the cloth, he leaned forward to recapture Yuuri’s mouth. “Always,” he whispered.

 

**September 6th, 2021, St. Petersburg**

 

Yuri kicked the rink wall in frustration; yet another long day of jump practice and he still couldn’t land the fucking quad flip more than a third of the time. Alexei had managed to land several quad salchows today, and he was happy for the kid, he really was, but _dammit_ … Why couldn’t he make any progress on this fucking jump? He was only 21, Katsudon had still been learning new jumps when he was freaking 24, there was no way he’d peaked…

 

_Right?_

 

_And speaking of that spectacularly talented asshole_ … Yuuri waved at him from his place on the ice, where he’d paused to listen to Coach McKenna. The Japanese skater nodded and then skated off, running through some tricky bit of footwork before accelerating… mohawk turn… 1, 2, 3, 4… _snnnnck_. Natalie crowed as the slender man aced the landing on the very jump that was Yuri’s current Waterloo.

 

_Mudak._

 

Yuuri skated over to the edge of the rink and smiled when Yuri handed him his water bottle. “Thanks, Yura,” he panted, taking a long sip. “I caught the end of your practice, your salchow just keeps getting better and better. I’m a little jealous, honestly!”

 

He kicked the edge of the rink, sneering slightly. “ _Tcha._ Right. Great. Glad my fucking _salchow_ looks good.”

 

Yuuri blinked in surprise and Yuri couldn’t help the tiny twinge of guilt that, perversely, only made him angrier. The older skater slowly replaced the cap on his bottle, brow furrowed.

 

“Oooookay… did you want to talk about it or are we just going to ignore whatever you’re upset about?”

 

Yuri grimaced.

 

On the other side of the low wall, Yuuri sighed. “You know, I seem to recall Victor telling me that _you_ told him that he and I had to _talk_ to solve our problems. The same thing goes for friendship, Yura. I can’t help if I don’t even know what the problem is…”

 

He squirmed uncomfortably. “What if… what if it’s not in your best interest to help me solve this problem?” He hated how small his voice sounded.

 

Yuuri nodded, understanding dawning in his brown eyes. “Ah. Give me a second?” He held Yuri’s gaze for a moment, waiting for a gesture of agreement, before skating back out to where his coach was waiting. A few murmurs later and Natalie was skating off the ice, giving Yuri a cheerful wave as she pulled on her guards and disappeared from the rink side. “C’mon. Get back out here,” Yuuri commanded.

 

Yuri raised a skeptical brow. “Why?” he asked suspiciously.

 

“You’re upset because you aren’t landing the flip as consistently as you’d like, right? So, get out here and we’ll work on it.”

 

“ _Victor_ is working on it with me. No offense, Katsudon, but the guy basically invented the quad flip. He taught you, I should be able to learn it from him too…”

 

Yuuri bit his lip, then let out a deep, slightly sad sigh. “Yura… when Vitya taught me the flip, he could still _jump_ it. It wasn’t just theory, I could stand next to him and _watch_ how he moved, how he held himself… I know he still does doubles, but the acceleration isn’t the same…”

 

“So…? Yakov couldn’t land _any_ jumps and he still taught me three quads.”

 

“ _So_ , maybe you need the same thing I had. To be able to _watch_ it in person. Tapes and theory only do so much, sometimes.” The other man paused, a slight smirk crossing his face. “Besides, I seem to recall that Yakov didn’t exactly _teach_ you your first quad…”

 

Yuri blushed, then leaned down to pull off his skate guards before stepping back onto the ice. Yuuri grinned and skated off, already building acceleration as Yuri trailed after him. Japan’s Ace launched himself into the air, floating through the full four rotations before landing gracefully, one leg trailing behind him. Yuri watched the whole thing intently, focusing on the other skater’s arm placement, the sounds his blades made as he launched himself, the angle he held in the air…

 

“Again?” he asked, earning a brief nod before the jump was repeated. After several repetitions, the Russian was ready for his own attempt. He launched himself into the air, managing the full number of rotations before landing with a brush of his hands against the ice. Yuuri was patient, his legendary stamina allowing him to perform several more jumps before a quiet cough echoed through the rink. They turned, startled, catching sight of Victor leaning against the boards, Mila and Natalie bright splashes of crimson to either side of the head coach.

 

“Bring it in,” the coach called, no trace of the anger Yuri had half-feared in his cheerful tone.

 

Yuuri turned to comply, halting when Yuri snagged his wrist.

 

“Why?” he barked, his voice harsh in the quiet rink.

 

The older skater smiled serenely. “Why did you help me learn the quad salchow?”

 

Yuri nodded, understanding. At the end of the day, they were friends, yes. But they were still competitors and rivals at heart…

 

Each of them soared to new heights when the other was at their best.

 

God, this season was going to be fucking _awesome._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So! Today is the one day anniversary of my very first post on AO3. That's right, the first chapter of Once and Future Kings went up one year ago today! That seems crazy to me!
> 
> You may have noticed the chapter count went up by one - I cut the penultimate chapter into two chapters. Unless I go crazy, the chapters are as follows:
> 
> C22: Grand Prix Final (we're glossing past most of the qualifiers this time around!)  
> C23: Lead up to the Olympics/Team Skate  
> C24: Olympic Short Program  
> C25: Olympic Free Skate/Finale
> 
> Maybe an epilogue? Not planning on it right now, but I didn't plan one for OFK either so...
> 
> Thank you all for your kind words and support!


	22. Rise and Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Grand Prix begins.  
> Yuuri's birthday.  
> The Final brings a few surprises for our crew.

**October 13th, 2021, Pulkovo Airport**

 

His last season was flying past; too quickly sometimes. Somehow, the time between the placement announcements and the start of the Grand Prix Series had passed in what felt like the blink of an eye and Yuuri felt like he was grasping at each moment, trying to stamp the memories into his mind before it all came to an end.

 

Standing before the security gates at Pulkovo Airport felt surreal – he’d never watched Victor leave for a competition before. It was… _odd_. Victor hadn’t been his coach in years now, yet it sometimes still felt like he should be there, at his husband’s side, preparing for Skate America. As the Russian coach turned back for one final farewell, Yuuri could see an echo of his thoughts etched in Victor’s handsome face.

 

“I don’t like saying goodbye to you, _solnyshko,”_ Victor murmured, causing Yura to roll his eyes and move away from the couple.

 

Yuuri wrapped his arms around his spouse’s still-slender waist. “I’ll be here when you get home, Vitya, I promise.” He tipped his face up, welcoming a gentle kiss. Victor pulled him tight for a long moment, then released him, backing up to let him say his farewells to the younger skater.

 

“ _Davai_ , Yura!”

 

The blond rolled his eyes but bumped a suspiciously gentle fist against Yuuri’s. “Don’t worry. I’m up against fucking _JJ_. I’ll _smoke_ him. You’d better keep training while we’re gone, because I’m coming for _your_ ass at the Final this year!” He paused, eyes widening in horror for a moment before Victor doubled over in hysterical tears.

 

“Yura! I know Yuuri is very pretty but that’s _my_ job!”

 

Yuuri could feel his face burning as Yura rounded on the Russian coach. “Fuck you. Both of you. I regret _everything_. Gross fucking _mudaks_.” He stormed towards the security gates, middle finger raised in the air as he walked away.

 

Victor continued to laugh, holding his stomach as he struggled to breathe. Yuuri just shook his head, torn between amusement and embarrassment. “You’d better go after him, Vitya.”

 

Victor finally straightened, wiping the tears from his eyes and pulling Yuuri close for one last embrace. “ _Da, da_ , I’m going. I love you, we’ll bring you home a nice gold medal to admire!” Yuuri waved him off with a cheerful grin.

 

And just like that, Yuuri’s final Grand Prix Series was underway.

 

**November 29th, 2021, St. Petersburg**

Yuuri’s 30th birthday dawned in the darkness of a St. Petersburg fall. The chill at his back was enough to tell him he was alone in the bed, although the clatter and the smell of bacon drifting from the kitchen was enough to reassure him that Victor was still in the apartment. He glanced towards the dresser where a pair of medals lay tangled, the gold a gleaming reminder that he would soon be making his way to one more Grand Prix Final. He and Yuri had repeated their previous year’s ‘perfect’ series run, assuring that the two would enter the competition in Helsinki tied at 30 points apiece. Joining them were Otabek and Phichit, with a silver and gold each; JJ, making his return to the Final with a pair of silver medals and Leo, whose silver and bronze had barely beat out poor Alexei’s pair of bronzes.

 

He knew the boy felt badly about missing the Final by such a narrow margin; being only 17 was no excuse when Yuri Plisetsky was your training mate, Yuuri supposed. Still, he’d reminded the teenager that his own winning streak hadn’t started until he was 24; he hadn’t even made the Final until he’d been 23. An out of tune whistling in the hallway pulled him out of his musings and he smiled up at his husband as Victor entered the bedroom.

 

“Ah! Good, you’re up!” the Russian chirped, kneeling on the bed to drop a kiss on the top of Yuuri’s disheveled hair. “Happy birthday, _lyubov moya_! I made breakfast!”

 

Yuuri took a moment to nestle against his husband’s warm, bare chest. “Vitya, tell me you didn’t cook bacon without a shirt on? Again?”

 

Victor leaned back, looking wounded. “I wore an _apron_ , darling. I’m not a _savage_!”

 

Yuuri giggled but allowed himself to be pulled out of bed and towards the kitchen, where Victor proudly presented him with a steaming pot of tea alongside a breakfast that was definitely not within his diet plan. “Natalie would kill me if she knew what I was about to eat,” he mused, drawing a laugh from the other man.

 

“Yes, well, sometimes there are perks to being the husband and not the coach,” the fair haired beauty chirped. “ _I_ didn’t set your diet plan, so I have no problems helping you break it.”

 

“Riiiight,” Yuuri drawled. “As if you didn’t steal half my food the other night, claiming you were helping me maintain my diet.” He rolled his eyes at Victor’s faux-innocent expression, then sobered. “You… you don’t mind, truly? Not being my coach even though I’m here at your Club? I… I’ve kind of wondered…”

 

Victor smiled at him, his eyes clear and honest. “I don’t, _solnyshko_. I loved being your coach but… It’s nice, just being your husband now. I think…” his eyes dimmed a touch. “I think that trying to be and _do_ too much… your lover and your coach and your competitor… I don’t think it helped things when… when it got bad. There was no separation. I couldn’t… couldn’t be a good coach if we were having trouble at home. I couldn’t be a good _husband_ if I was upset about a competition. So, this? This is good.” His smile turned teasing. “ _Now_ , you can vent to me about your coach all you want!”

 

Yuuri smiled, chin in his hand. “Well, I have to admit, this is the nicest birthday morning I’ve had in years.”

 

Victor looked slightly perplexed. “Why, because I made you bacon?”

 

The Japanese skater laughed in delight. “No, darling. Because I’m with _you._ ”

 

**December 1st, 2021, Helsinki Airport**

As the plane touched down in Helsinki, Victor jolted awake, surreptitiously wiping away the tiny spot of drool that had collected where he’d been pillowed on Yuuri’s shoulder. It hadn’t taken much effort to convince Yuuri to sit in first class with the coaching staff, although he’d had to give in and upgrade Yuri, Mila and Alexei’s tickets as well. He glanced back at the youngest of his skaters, a soft smile on his face when he saw the teen curled up against a barely scowling Yura.

 

He knew that Alyosha felt badly over missing the Final by such a narrow margin, but he’d tried his best to reassure the teen that being named first alternate was nothing to be ashamed of. Hopefully being in the midst of the qualifying skaters would be enough to keep the boy’s competitive spirit alive… 7th in the world was a very solid position going into the Olympics… all Alexei needed to do was to stay strong going into Russian Nationals.

 

He took his phone out of airplane mode as they rolled along the runway, smiling softly as Yuuri finally stirred out of his nap. The Japanese skater smiled softly up at him before stretching and reaching for his own phone, clicking around before widening his eyes. “Vi…Vitya? Have you checked your phone?” he asked, face suddenly pale.

 

Victor glanced at his husband in confusion before pulling up the plethora of notifications. He felt his own eyes widen as he scrolled through the messages. “Shit,” he spluttered, then turned back toward Yura and Alexei. “Yura! Take Alyosha’s phone before he wakes up!”

 

The blond glared at him before complying, digging the phone out of the teen’s pocket with a concerning amount of dexterity. “…The FUCK old man?” he snarked, his tone too mild to express any real anger. Victor shook his head frantically, too busy digging through his messages to respond. Beside him, his husband was similarly distracted.

 

“Shit. _Phichit,”_ Yuuri swore, his fingers flying across his screen. 

 

Victor winced, knowing exactly what had the skater in such distress. Looking over, he caught Georgi’s eye from across the aisle. The other coach leaned over from where he sat beside Natalie, the redheaded coach murmuring softly into her phone, a distressed look on her normally cheerful face. “You saw?” Georgi queried, keeping his voice down.

 

He nodded, glancing towards Yuri and Alexei’s seat. The blond leaned into the aisle, listening intently.  Victor raised an eyebrow but didn’t bother trying to exclude the skater; this situation would affect him as well. He turned back to his assistant coach. “Tell me Alexei brought all his gear,” he whispered urgently. To his surprise, Yuri replied before Georgi.

 

“I made sure he did. Costumes, too.”

 

Both coaches looked at him in surprise and the younger man flushed.

 

“What?” he spluttered defensively. “The kid asked for advice on what to bring. I told him he was the alternate, he needed to be ready to skate.” He glanced behind him to where Alexei was beginning to stir.  “’Course, I didn’t think he’d actually _need_ his shit. What the fuck happened to Chulanont?”

 

“Sprained his ankle on a patch of ice near the hotel. Celestino is livid,” Natalie chimed in, gesturing with her phone.

 

“Badly enough that he’s dropping out of the _Final?_ ” Yuri was incredulous, the horror of backing out of a major competition clear in his voice. Around them, people were beginning to stir as the plane finally came to a halt, curious glances aimed in their direction.

 

“Let’s discuss this once we’re somewhere more private,” Victor decided. Yuri looked annoyed but subsided easily enough. “And keep Alyosha off his phone until we get out of the airport. I don’t want him getting worried until we have a chance to figure out exactly what’s going on.”

 

**A few hours later, Crowne Plaza Helsinki**

He wasn’t sure who looked more anxious: Yuuri or Alexei. Both skaters fidgeted in their seats, straining to watch the lobby bar’s entrance. Yuri slumped against the back of the circular booth, feigning boredom, although Victor could tell from his frantic texting that the blond was as wound up as the other two. Suddenly, Yuuri bounced up with a gasp, drawing Victor’s attention towards the door. He grimaced as he caught sight of Phichit propped up on a pair of crutches as he hobbled between Celestino and Natalie.

 

“Oh, Peach,” Yuuri groaned, sliding over so that his friend could take the end of the booth. The Thai skater hugged his old roommate, burying his face in the crook of Yuuri’s neck for a long moment as the rest of the party watched in sympathy. Victor felt a twinge of regret at the sight: he'd refused all of Yuuri's offers of comfort after his own injury. Of course, a career ending injury mid-competition was a different beast... still. How much pain could he have saved them both if he'd just... let himself take what Yuuri had so freely offered...

 

Finally, Celestino cleared his throat, interrupting Victor's reverie. “As far as sprains go, it could be worse. The hotel’s in deep trouble with the ISU for failing to ensure the safety of their athletes, not that it helps _after_ the fact.”

 

“If it’s not that bad, couldn’t you skate with a brace or something?” Yuri growled, his brow furrowed.

 

Phichit finally looked up, chuckling weakly. “That eager for a rematch, Kitten?” His tone was teasing despite his dejected demeanor.

 

Celestino shook his head. “If he skates on an injury, he risks further damage. With rest, he’ll be fine in time for the Olympics. Pulling out of the Final is the prudent choice.”

 

“I’m so sorry,” Alexei whispered, his dark head bowed as he scrunched to make himself as small as possible. “I wanted to skate in the Final but not like this…” his voice sounded close to tears.

 

Phichit smiled brightly, leaning across the table to place his hand over the boy’s. “Hey! That’s why we have alternates! You skated _really_ well this season and I feel better pulling out knowing you’ll be taking my place!”

 

Some of the tension lifted from Alexei’s shoulders at Phichit’s sincerity.  Victor’s phone buzzed and he glanced down, grimacing.

 

“Everything okay?” Yuuri asked.

 

“Yes, just need to deal with some paperwork for Alexei,” he sighed, standing. “Sorry, Alyosha, I’ll need you with me for this. We can all catch up later, perhaps a group dinner?” There was a round of nodding from the table as Alexei reluctantly stood. Phichit opened up his arms where he sat, and the teen bounced down for a gentle hug before standing back to allow Victor to lean in for a quick embrace.

 

“Rest up, Peach. Eyes on the big prize, hmmm?” He ruffled the younger man’s shaggy hair before snagging Yuuri’s hand to press a quick kiss to his husband’s knuckles.  

 

“We’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind,” Celestino said, Natalie nodding beside him. “We’ve paperwork of our own to deal with. Phichit, you’ll be okay?”

 

“Sure, Coach, I’ll make Yuuri take care of me!” the Thai skater chirped, drawing a huff of laughter from his former roommate.

 

Victor led the group out, pausing to greet Otabek as they passed the Kazakh skater, surely on his way to meet Yuri. The short, serious eyed man extended a hand to Alexei, shaking it solemnly before continuing on his way to join the rest of the athletes. Yuri nodded in greeting before scooting to make room. Otabek slid quietly into the booth, eyes fixed on where Phichit had once again slumped against the Japanese skater.

 

Now that the coaches were out of ear shot, the Thai skater burst into tears. “So stupid! I’m a _figure skater_. How do I slip on a freaking patch of _ice_?”

 

Yuri frantically pushed a pile of napkins in Phichit’s direction, looking vaguely alarmed. “I’ve literally seen you fall on ice dozens of times, shit happens Chula- _ow_!” The blond flashed an indignant glance in Otabek’s direction, rubbing his arm where the taciturn man had punched him.

 

“You’ll be back on your feet in a couple weeks Peach! Celestino’s right, the Olympics are more important,” Yuuri said soothingly, rubbing his friend’s back.

 

“Yes,” Otabek agreed. “Your presence will be missed on the ice this weekend, but don’t lose sight of what we’re all aiming for. You’re a strong competitor, come back from this and skate against us in Beijing.”

 

“Yeah,” Yuri snarled, “I’d rather beat your freaky hamster-loving ass there anyways. Show ‘em that Worlds was a fluke.”

 

“Pffft,” Phichit teased shakily, wiping tears from his face. “Whatever, maybe I was just trying to give you all a shot at a medal before I smoke you all on Olympic ice. This is all just an elaborate ruse to lure you into a false sense of safety.”

 

Yuri narrowed his eyes for a moment, huffing when Otabek elbowed him. “Ow! Jesus fuck Beka! Stop _doing_ that shit!”

 

“He’s kidding, Yura.”

 

“ _Tcha_. I knew that. Duh.”

 

The table dissolved into a clatter of friendly insults as the night progressed, leaving the quartet in better spirits before they finally parted. Waving farewell to the younger pair, Yuuri kept pace with his former roommate as they made their way slowly towards their rooms.

 

“Thanks for hanging out, Yuu,” Phichit said, huffing in frustration as he hobbled down the hallway. “I’m sure I’m not the best company right now.”

 

Yuuri stopped, turning to look at the other skater. “Hey, stop that. We’re friends, this is what we do. You’ve been there for me through some pretty terrible times. Let me be here for you now.”

 

“Sap.”

 

“You love me,” Yuuri grinned, throwing Phichit’s frequent tease back at his friend.

 

“Yeah,” the younger man grinned, “I really freaking do.”

 

**December 5th, 2021, Helsinki Ice Hall**

 

If anyone had told him that his disastrous performance in Sochi so many years ago would lead him to the life and career he now had, Yuuri would have laughed. Or cried. Probably both. And yet, skating in the Grand Prix Final had grown strangely familiar over the years. He no longer tried to convince himself that it was luck or a fluke that had landed him once again on the top of the podium. He knew how hard he’d worked, how hard they _all_ worked to reach the heights they achieved. The slight ache in his knees, the twinge in his feet; they were proof of the hours he’d spent honing his skills, building his endurance.

 

Yuri stood to his right, a slightly frustrated smile on his face as he held his silver aloft. He’d pulled the quad flip at the last minute, still not satisfied with his consistency. Otabek stood to Yuuri’s left, his face its usual stoic mask as he held his bronze aloft. The younger men still had years to duke it out for medals… as long as nothing came along to shorten their careers.

 

Yuuri felt his smile slip a notch as he caught sight of the group standing off the side of the rink, watching the ceremony. Phichit stood, one arm slung over a crutch, the other hitched over Alexei’s shoulder.  If his fall had been worse… a sprained ankle could so easily have been something worse, a break… a blown knee… his eyes strayed further, alighting on his husband.

 

Victor’s smile was genuine as he watched his spouse and his protégé standing on the podiums. Yuuri’s grin widened again. Even the worst injuries didn’t mean the end for any of them. He had proof of that in his arms every night. Soon, his star would dim, but he was excited to see where his journey would lead.

 

One last major stop before this part of his story ended.  

 

Only two months until the Olympics.

 

Two final months to show his love to the world. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the last chapter might have been the shortest in this series, but this is one of the longest, soooo... balance?  
> Also, is there half of an Alyosha POV side story written covering this Final? Yep. There is. It didn't quite fit into the narrative flow here, but it's sweet and I'm weak for my little teeny child, so I'll put it up over on Tales in a week or so.  
> Heading to Beijing soon! And I'm so sorry to hurt our bebe Phichit :( I promise I didn't do it to be cruel!!!


	23. Some Other Beginning's End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor's birthday  
> The Olympics Begin  
> Team Skate Results

**December 25 th, 2021, Moscow**

There were many reasons why Victor Nikiforov wasn’t particularly fond of his birthday. If you asked Yuri Plisetsky, he’d tell you it was Victor’s hatred of growing older. Which, now, as he turned 34… well, he had to admit there might be _some_ truth to that theory. But no, he’d disliked his birthday long before age had been a concern.

 

Contrary to fan blog theories, it wasn’t the presence of the Christmas holiday either. He was Russian; Christmas had never been December 25th for him. No, he disdained the celebration of his birth because it was a reminder of how _lonely_ he had always been. Childhood birthday celebrations were a distantly pleasant memory, but nearly every birthday since he’d debuted in the Juniors singles division had been spent within the confines of a competition. Russian Nationals to be specific.

 

And for all that lovely, wonderful Yuuri had been a blazing light in his world, his birthday was the one thing they’d never shared thanks to the inevitable overlap between Japanese and Russian Nationals. _No birthday breakfast in bed for Russian Legends_ , Victor thought, trying not to pout.

 

One good thing about retirement: nobody could stop him from eating dessert in the hotel lounge on his birthday. Alone. With his vodka.

 

“Augh, I fucking _told_ you he’d be down here moping.”

 

Yuri’s scathing drawl was his only warning before he was crowded against the back of the booth by Yuri, Mila and Georgi. The other coach reached over to snag a bite of his cake, drawing a sputtering protest.

 

“Can we get one of each dessert, please? And a round of shots?” Mila politely asked as the star struck server hovered near the table.

 

“You still have your free skate tomorrow,” Victor reminded his skater pointedly. She snagged his fork from Georgi’s hand, ignoring him blithely as she ate.

 

He threw his hands up as the server returned, unloading a tray of sweets and drinks. “Who is in charge of you people?”

 

“That would be you,” Mila pointed out sweetly as she took her glass. “Happy birthday, Vitya!”

 

Yuri and Georgi held their glasses up, Yuri eyeing him pointedly until he raised his own in strangely happy resignation. They downed their shots, Victor watching in amusement as the server returned with another round.

 

“Where’s Alyosha?” he queried as he fought Yuri for a bite of a decadent looking chocolate concoction.

 

Mila giggled. “Oh, we left him flirting with the girl that took second in the short program. They were speculating about the Olympics when we left.”

 

Victor’s eyes widened. “Oh god, do I need to give him the Olympics talk?”

 

Yuri snorted. “Relax, he’s been asking your husband for advice for _months_. Which, gross, by the way.”

 

Georgi shook his head, laughing. “Ahhhh, I remember _my_ first Olympics… there was this Italian speed skater…”

 

Yuri’s face turned mildly horrified and he downed his shot. “I do NOT want to hear this!”

 

“Hear what?” Katya asked as she arrived, nudging Georgi over so she could sit.

 

“Gosha being disgusting,” Yuri replied, nudging a glass over to the assistant coach. She laughed as she toasted Victor and Georgi.

 

Victor chuckled. “This is nice, thank you all.”

 

Mila smiled sweetly. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re just getting started!” She checked her phone, eyes sparkling. “Two more hours and we can celebrate Gosha’s birthday, too!”

 

Victor exchanged a glance with the assistant coach, who shrugged. “For the record, this was _not_ my idea.”

 

Yuri nodded as he beckoned the server over. “ _Da_. Katsudon and his coach are footing the bill, so drink up.”

 

Victor blinked, surprised. “Yuuri planned this? He didn’t say anything when we talked earlier.”

 

“Less planned and more… gave us money and told us to make sure you didn’t spend the night moping,” Yuri admitted.

 

Victor leaned back, smiling. Maybe this birthday thing wasn’t so bad after all…

 

**February 1 st, 2022, Beijing Winter Olympics Village**

_“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod.”_

 

Yuuri grinned, charmed by the constant litany of excited amazement buzzing from Alexei’s lips.

 

“There’s Otabek. I’m out,” Yuri grated in relief. Yuuri waved him off with a laugh. Alyosha’s enthusiasm was probably slightly less charming to his rink mate, who’d spent most of the day in the young skater’s company. Yuuri had only met up with the Russian skaters after lunch, having spent the morning in meetings with the Japanese team.  He exchanged a fond glance with Mila as Yuri ran to catch up to his Kazakh friend, Alexei pouting slightly at not being invited to tag along.

 

“I told Phichit I’d meet him for coffee. Kenji, Guang Hong and Leo will be there too if either of you want to come?”

 

Alexei perked up at the offer. “Phichit? Yeah! I want to come, please?” He flashed puppy-dog eyes in Mila and Yuuri’s direction.

 

“I offered, didn’t I?” the Japanese skater grinned.

 

Mila waved off the invitation, having already made plans to meet up with Sara Crispino. They split up, Alexei happily tagging along with the older skater. The boy dashed ahead when he caught sight of the other skaters and Yuuri smiled. The young Russian had bonded with the exuberant Thai man during the Grand Prix Final, a mixture of guilt at Phichit’s misfortune and both skaters’ natural friendliness combining to form a fast friendship.

 

Yuuri reached the group as Alexei bounced away to greet the other skaters. Phichit flashed him a crooked grin, holding his arms open for a hug. “Hey Peach, good to see you. How’s the ankle?”

 

The Thai skater wrinkled his nose. “Y’know, if I had a nickel for every time someone asked me that…”

 

Yuuri flushed. “Ah, _gomen._ How are the hammies?”

 

Phichit grinned. “They’re good, they say hello!” Then he sighed. “And the ankle is mostly fine. I’m cleared for jumps but…” he hesitated, eyeing the younger skaters before continuing. “Quads still feel a little shaky. Not sure if it’s nerves or an actual problem though.”

 

“I’m so sorry…” Yuuri started, but his friend shook his head.

 

“Stop. I love you but stop. It was a shitty accident. The timing could have been better, yeah, but at the end of the day, it could have happened to anyone. The only people that should be sorry are the people in charge of grounds keeping at the hotel.” He grimaced. “I’m sure after Ciao Ciao and the ISU got through with them, they WERE sorry.”

 

Alexei had turned to listen to the older skaters, leaving Leo, Guang Hong and Kenjirou in a chattering cluster. Phichit reached out to tousle the boy’s dark hair. “And don’t YOU go worrying about it either. I told you back in Helsinki that I was glad you were there to fill in, and I mean it kiddo. Congrats on getting picked for the Team Skate, by the way. I have to admit, I’m kinda jealous.”

 

The teen beamed, obviously excited by the Thai skater’s attentions. “Thailand has a few really good skaters in Juniors now, so next Olympics you can go for the Team Skate, too!” he offered with a grin before Guang Hong tugged on his arm, distracting the boy with something on his phone.  The younger skater turned away before he could catch the wistful expression that crossed Phichit’s face, but Yuuri didn’t miss it.

 

“Y’know, only in the athletic world can a not quite 27-year-old and a 30-year-old feel, well… _old_ ,” he murmured, earning a nod of agreement from his best friend. They were quiet for a few moments as they reached the counter, placing their orders and moving off to wait with the rest of the group. Coffee acquired, they trailed out, slowly making their way back to the cluster of dorm-style housing.  Yuuri sensed that his friend was in an unusually contemplative mood and held his peace during the walk.

 

“I _am_ a little jealous, y’know?” Phichit finally murmured. “I’d have liked to try for a team medal: another shot at Olympic glory, right? Japan and Russia both have solid teams, Alexei and Kenjirou have a chance at a Team medal even if they can’t make the individual podium…”

 

“You have a good shot at the individual podium, Peach, you took silver at Worlds…”

 

Phichit smiled sadly in his direction. “Right. Of course! It’s just… this is my last shot, too, y’know?”

 

Yuuri bit his lip. “So, you’re retiring too, then.”

 

“Maybe? Probably? I mean, I could stick around for another season or two, but can’t really imagine making it to the next Olympics. If I retire now, I go out after some of my best finishes. I can start that ice show, maybe even get in on helping to train some of those talented Junior skaters. Maybe by the next Olympics, I can even help _coach_ Thailand to a Team event. We only had four athletes in PyeongChang. There’s nine of us this time around. Next time…” He flashed a lopsided grin in Yuuri’s direction. “I’m pissed that I hurt myself before the Olympics but… maybe it’s time for me to move onto to new adventures, eh?”

 

Yuuri bumped his shoulder affectionately. “You’d better not slack off though. I want to have to work to beat you one more time!”

 

Phichit flashed his teeth. “Oh, no worries, Katsuki. I plan to bring it. I can’t let you and the Kitten take _all_ the Olympic glory!” His smile grew softer, more subdued as he watched Alexei chatting animatedly with Kenjirou and Guang Hong. “I think Leo and JJ and Crispino will step down soon, too. It’ll be strange, watching a new group of stories out on the ice… Oh, blah, I’m getting all maudlin and weepy.”

 

“Our stories aren’t finished yet, Peach,” Yuuri laughed. “And if I’ve learned anything, it’s that no story is ever truly over. We’re just moving onto the sequels, is all!”

 

**February 4th, 2022, Beijing Olympic Stadium**

 

Victor searched the crowd of athletes, trying in vain to catch sight of a familiar face in the vast sea of people. With a grimace, he finally gave up, settling down to watch with Georgi. The other coach smiled knowingly.

 

“You’ll have a better chance of seeing him if we go watch the screens in the stadium. It’ll be hard to miss Japan’s flag bearer after all!”

 

The Russian head coach smiled in acknowledgement, turning to cast one last glance over his shoulder as they made their way out of the holding area and out to the seats reserved for the coaching staffs and various officials from the competing countries. Katya waved to them from the end of one row and the two men made their way over to the other coach. On her other side, Vice President Kordova and several other FFKK officials stood with smiles of greeting.

 

“Anya, a pleasure to see you,” Victor offered as they reached the section of seating that had been taken over by the Russian contingent. And it was, if he was being honest. His relationship with the FFKK had vastly improved since Kordova had begun taking a personal interest in the St. Petersburg Club.

 

“You as well Victor, Georgi,” she replied politely before settling back into her seat to continue watching the festivities.

 

“Do you miss it?” Georgi murmured in his ear as the enormous crowd of Canadian athletes entered the stadium to loud applause. He could just make out Leroy, his bizarre hand gesture interspersed with enthusiastic waves as he made his way around the stadium.

 

He shrugged. “Honestly? It’s hard to say. I skated in four Olympics… counting the Team skate at Sochi and Pyeong Chang, I took four gold medals… but the pageantry, the hype, the pressure? I don’t miss that. I think I’m happier here, watching it all…”

 

Georgi nodded, his eyes flickering up at the screen as the athletes continued to stream in a continuous parade. “I know what you mean; the pressure, the attention… I only have the Team gold from Sochi, but even that was a lot. But still… there was excitement in the pageantry. Sometimes I miss that; the applause, the thrill of competing…”

 

“Hey, is this party for Russians only, or can anybody crash?”

 

Both men smiled as Natalie plopped into the seat beside Georgi, dropping her head against the Russian assistant coach’s shoulder. Victor raised an eyebrow at her eclectic outfit choice, her new Team Japan jacket clashing loudly with the Team USA beanie from the Sochi Olympics. She giggled as she caught his expression.

 

“I’m officially coaching a Japanese athlete, but I skated for the States, so I thought I’d try to get away with a little mix-and-match!”

 

“Speaking of Japanese athletes,” Katya spoke up, nudging Victor to draw his attention to the overhead screen. The Japanese contingent was just making their way into the stadium and Victor’s eyes went immediately to the flag bearer, Yuuri’s cheeks flushed in a combination of cold and excitement, those cinnamon eyes sparkling brightly on the enormous screens. Natalie’s wolf whistles and the noise of the crowd faded as he proudly watched his husband enter one last Olympic stadium.

 

**February 14 th, 2022, Beijing**

“Sorry, Yurio, fair’s fair,” Phichit was teasing as Yuuri approached the crowded table, Victor in tow.

 

The blond bit off his retort when he caught sight of the older pair, subsiding into mutters as they slid into a pair of vacant seats.

 

“What’s fair?” Yuuri wondered aloud, drawing a snort from, of all people, Otabek.

 

“Yura lost a bet with Phichit on the outcome of the Team Skate,” he said, smirking slightly at his friend’s discomfiture. Like Thailand, Kazakhstan fielded too few skaters to compete for the Team medals, so the normally stoic skater had spent the last few days in relative ease.

 

“Ow! Fucking hell, Baba! What was that for?”

 

Victor scowled down at his star Men’s skater, who in turn was glaring at Mila. “Quite frankly, if she hadn’t smacked you, _I_ might have. Tell me you weren’t _betting_ on Olympic sports. After everything we’ve dealt with?”

 

Yuri flushed, his eyes widening in horror as both he and Phichit scrambled to explain.

 

“It wasn’t like that, Vitya, I swear!”

 

“Nononono, there wasn’t anything bad involved!”

 

Victor buried his head in his hands, tugging at the silver strands. It had been a long week, culminating in his trio of singles skaters leading the way to a silver medal in the Team skate. He was proud of their performances, especially since they’d had to carry the weight of the relatively weaker pairs and ice dance teams, but…

 

“Sorry, Victor, but it really isn’t anything like that…” Phichit said, apologetically. “I bet the Kitten that Japan would take the Team Skate over Russia.”

 

Yuuri flushed, the gold medal under his jacket suddenly feeling much heavier than it had.  

 

“And… what, exactly, did you two wager on this outcome?”

 

Yuri groaned before slumping down on the table. “I have to come skate in his stupid ice show _if_ he ever does it.”

 

Victor looked up, hair disheveled as he rose an eyebrow. “That’s it? You _like_ skating in exhibition shows, why are you complaining?”

 

The blond muttered something under his breath, too quick to catch.

 

“Sorry, Yura, what was that?”

 

“I have to wear a creepy hamster hat during Phichit’s short program!”

 

A long moment of startled silence greeted Yuri’s outburst as the skaters and coach turned incredulous eyes on the blushing skater. Victor was the first to break the impasse, a slightly hysterical giggle bursting from his lips. The rest of the table, Yuri included, soon joined in.

 

Yuuri glanced around, smiling as his fingers crept under his jacket, brushing the edges of the cool disk around his neck. One gold medal down.

 

One last podium to reach for.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Canada took bronze in the Team Skate in case you wondered!  
> And it'll come up in the next chapter, but Yuuri and Yura took the short program portions for their team, Alexei and Minami did the free skates. Mila also skated for the Russian Team :) 
> 
> The next two chapters are skate-heavy, so I kind of glossed over the Team Skate. 
> 
> I have it in my notes for Once and Future Kings, but I can't recall if it ever made it into the actual story. Otabek took the bronze in Men's singles in PyeongChang. (Yuri took silver, I know I've mentioned that but yeah...)
> 
> Not gonna lie, getting a little emotional with each chapter I finish. I had to force myself to stop fidgeting with this one...
> 
> Up Next: 
> 
> The Men's Short Program Featuring:  
> Commentary from Chris and Morooka!  
> Emotions!  
> Yuri and Otabek as reluctant big brothers!


	24. The Moment of Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the Men's Short Program at the Beijing Olympics.  
> Emotions are running high...

**February 18 th, 2022, Beijing**

_“This is Christophe Giacometti for NBC Sports along with my friend Hisashi Morooka of TV Asahi and we are live from the Men’s Short Program here at the Beijing Olympics! If you’re just joining us, welcome to the show darlings! A brief recap for those casual watchers: today is the first of two days of competition for our fine crop of male skaters, some of whom you_ may _have seen skating during the Team Event competitions that concluded a few days ago!”_

 

_“That’s right Chris! At the Team Event, we saw ten nations vie for medals, with Japan, Russia and Canada skating away with the podium finishes. Today, we’ll see 32 men from 22 different nations compete for the right to move on to tomorrow’s free skate! Only 24 can advance, so we’ll be seeing the final 2022 Olympic skate from 8 of these talented gentlemen today!”_

 

_“Very true, Hisashi, and congratulations to your home country on that gold medal! Of course, we can’t mention the Japanese team without bringing up my friend and former competitor, the utterly delicious Yuuri Katsuki; anchor for the Team Event and a favorite for the Men’s Singles podium here in Beijing. You’ve been a supporter of Katsuki for a long time, it must be a proud moment to witness his success leading into today’s competition.”_

 

 _“Indeed Chris, Yuuri-san has surprised and delighted his fans by first becoming our late-blooming Champion and then by_ maintaining _his dominance in the field for the last six years. He’s the oldest still in the Internationally competitive field and that, coupled with his recent reconciliation with his husband, retired Russian legend-turned-coach Victor Nikiforov, has generated an unprecedented amount of attention.”_

 

_“Very true. Let’s hope Yuuri, well known for his glass heart, can ignore the hype and perform at the level he’s displayed throughout the rest of the 2021/2022 figure skating season!”_

 

_“Ah, it looks like the first group has taken the ice for their warm-up so let’s move on to the other competitors expected to perform well here today!”_

 

_“Hmmm, yes! A few of my other former competitors are front-runners for the Men’s podium. 21-year-old Yuri Plisetsky from Russia has had a very strong season, taking silver at the 2021 Grand Prix Final and first at the Russian Nationals. His rink mate, 17-year-old Alexei Ivanof is also a contender for a top ten finish after an unexpected sixth place at last year’s World Figure Skating Championships!”_

 

_“Some impressive skaters coming out of Coach Nikiforov’s St. Petersburg Club. We’ll also be seeing Mila Babicheva vie for gold during the Women’s Singles competition later this week.”_

 

_“Oui! Most impressive for Russia’s darling, hm? But Katsuki, Plisetsky and Ivanof will face fierce competition in the form of Kazakhstan’s hero, Otabek Altin, as well as familiar faces such as Canada’s Leroy, the US’s Iglesia and Thailand’s sweetheart, Phichit Chulanont, who returns after an unfortunate injury which sidelined him during last year’s Grand Prix Final.”_

 

_“If Chulanont can overcome his sprained ankle, he certainly has a strong shot at the podium. He managed to edge past Russia’s Plisetsky at the 2021 World Figure Skating Championship, taking silver for the first time. Ah! Our first flight is ready to take the ice in competition! Good luck to all these talented men today! First on the ice, from France…”_

 

***

Victor pulled his jacket a little tighter, resigning himself to a long day at the rink. Alyosha and Yura were in the second and third flights respectively, Yuuri in the fourth, and Otabek and Phichit both skated in the final flight of the day. He had at least an hour before he needed to be out at rinkside with Alexei, perhaps he could snag a hot drink while the first skaters took the ice?

 

As if reading his mind, Georgi appeared at his side, handing over a white paper cup, steam still escaping from the lid. Victor groaned happily as the first sip of caffeine hit his tongue.

 

“You are an actual godsend,” he murmured.

 

Georgi smiled lightly. “You know, if you’d wear _gloves_ you wouldn’t get so cold,” the assistant coach teased lightly.

 

Victor pouted, wriggling his fingers to show off the sparkle of gold. “But if I wear gloves, they’ll think my ring is gone again!”

 

The dark-haired coach shook his head, chuckling lightly. “Trust me, Vitya, the world is _well_ aware of that ring being back on your finger.”

 

Victor snuck a glance at his old friend. The man was historically a bit sensitive when it came to talks of marriage and rings, his own bad luck in love lending him an air of wistful envy. Today though, Georgi seemed unphased.

 

“What will Natalie do when Yuuri announces his retirement?” he mused aloud.

 

Georgi looked startled at the quiet question. “Why do you ask?” he responded cautiously.

 

Victor shrugged as he took another sip of his coffee. “You’re not as… showy with her as you were with An… with _other_ relationships. You’re quieter. I think you’re _happier_. Kind of makes me think there might be something _real_ there. But she’s technically in St. Petersburg to be Yuuri’s coach so… what will she do when he no longer _needs_ one? There’s a place for her in my rink, if that’s what she wants. But if she wants to go back to Detroit…” he turned, catching and holding his friend’s eyes. “Georgi, you’re the best assistant I could hope for. We work well together. I trust you. But… I’ve learned that sometimes you have to follow your heart.”

 

Georgi quirked a dark brow. “Is this your subtle way of telling me I’m fired?” he asked teasingly. “Because it rather sounds like you’re telling me to drop all of my responsibilities to chase after a chance at love.”

 

Victor’s smile was soft as he replied. “Yeah, well. It worked for me.”

 

***

 

“ _T_ _here_ you are,” Yuri said in exasperation. “The kid would’ve died of fucking heartbreak if you two had missed his short program.” He scooted over as Yuuri and Phichit slid into the skaters’ viewing area, waving at Otabek on his other side.

 

“Sorry,” Phichit offered with a grimace. “Ciao-Ciao insisted on one last trip to the trainer to check my stupid ankle. Again.”

 

Even Otabek glanced up in surprise at the annoyance in the typically cheerful voice. An awkward silence descended as the quartet watched the end of the on-ice warm-ups. As he moved to exit the rink, Alexei looked up, searching. He waved excitedly towards the older skaters, drawing his coach’s attention in their direction. A bright smile crossed Victor’s face and he, too, acknowledged the group, his gaze lingering on Yuuri for a long moment before he turned to help Alexei off the ice.

 

As the first skater’s name was called, Phichit finally broke the silence. “Ciao Ciao thinks I should save quads for the free skate.” Yuri winced a bit at the calm admission, though Yuuri looked unsurprised. Celestino was still technically his coach and Phichit was his best friend; the Japanese skater had probably already heard this bit of news.

 

“It’s a sound strategy from a coaching standpoint,” Otabek offered quietly, his gaze still on the young French skater on the ice.

 

“How!?” Phichit groused. “I earn more with a muffed landing on a quad than I do on solid triple.”

 

“I would guess that your coach is thinking more about the possibility of a repeat injury,” Otabek pointed out, finally turning to gaze impassively at the Thai skater. “Making it into the free skate, even if you’re not in the top six, means you still have a chance at the podium.”

 

The conversation paused; the men applauding politely as the skater received his scores. Low 70s. A season’s best for the young athlete, but probably not high enough to advance. Still, he looked satisfied with his performance, reveling in the chance to compete on this most elite of stages. The group stayed quiet as Alexei took the ice, the applause crescendoing. Only 17, the young man was a crowd favorite due to his friendly demeanor and impressive performances over the last two seasons. Russia’s up-and-coming star was a heavy favorite for a top ten finish in Beijing, with some sources listing him as a long-shot for a medal.

 

As his music began, all four competitors leaned forward in their seats, a wide range of emotions flitting through them. Friendship, brotherly affection, worry… the figure skating community was a complex world. Many of them were close, but at the end of the day they were all skating for the same hard to reach prize.

 

Alexei was skating well, the tiniest brush of a hand on the ice on his quad toe-loop the only flaw as he headed into the back half of his short program. And then…

 

The audience gasped as he took to the air again; the snick of his blade on his clean landing followed by a roar of approval as the teen managed to land his quad salchow for the first time in international competition. The tumult continued as Alexei’s final spin came to a final, sudden stop. He took his bows, the tears streaming down his cheeks clear even from the stands. He skated off, snagging a plushie from the ice before meeting Victor in an ecstatic hug at the boards.

 

“Well, _shit_ ,” Phichit swore softly. Yuri stole a quick glance at the other man, taking note of the pensive expression the Thai skater wore.

 

“You only have to get through to the free skate,” Yuuri murmured, half under his breath.

 

From the corner of his eye, Yuri saw Phichit purse his lips in disagreement. Thailand had never had a Winter Olympics medalist… Yuri couldn’t begin to imagine the pressure the older skater was feeling. Yes, Yuri had always wanted to carry the torch for his country’s Olympic hopes, but he already had his own medals, along with the medals of Victor, Georgi, Mila and every skater and Winter athlete that had come before him. Phichit was Thailand’s best and only hope, for the second Olympics running.  A fifth-place finish in PyeongChang had only fueled the flames of his country’s fervor. A silver medal at Worlds had fanned it to a fever-pitch.

 

Alyosha’s score was announced, rocketing him to the top of the score-board with a 15-point lead that virtually guaranteed his place in the top ten going into tomorrow’s free-skate. A fierce whispering reached Yuri’s ears as the next skater took the ice, and he narrowed his eyes as he took in Yuuri and Phichit’s tense postures as they spoke in hushed tones. Suddenly, Yuuri stood.

 

“I’m going to go do some stretches,” he announced, shaking of Phichit’s attempts at protest. He nodded to Otabek and offered a shaky smile in Yuri’s direction. “I’ll be sure to watch you skate in the next flight, Yura.”

 

Nonplussed, he couldn’t do anything but nod in acknowledgement before the older skater disappeared. Phichit hunched in on himself, eyes glued to the ice.

 

“You’re going to jump your quads, then?” Otabek asked, his dark eyes suddenly fixed on the Thai skater.

 

Phichit shrugged, making an attempt at his normal breezy grin. “Guess you’ll have to wait to find out,” he said, feigning nonchalance.

 

“Right,” Yuri half-snarled. “I need to go, too. Group 3 warm-ups’ll be in half an hour or so.”

 

Otabek called a quiet _davai_ in his direction.

 

Phichit was silent, staring pensively out onto the ice as Yuri stalked off in the same direction as his Japanese friend.

 

***

 

“Are you going for the flip or will you hold off until the free skate?”

 

Yuri visibly startled at the question, drawn out of whatever strange fugue he’d been in since coming down to the warm-up area after Alyosha’d finished skating. From the corner of his eye, Victor could see the teen still chatting animatedly with a handful of reporters, Georgi keeping a watchful eye over the youngest of their Olympians. He returned his gaze to the more senior of his Men’s competitors. Yuri Plisetsky wasn’t typically the one to allow competition jitters to break the flow of his legendarily intense concentration.

 

Something had happened.

 

“Do you want to talk about it now, or do you want to talk about it after it affects your short program?” he offered mildly.

 

Yuri’s head snapped up, emerald eyes narrowed as he glared at his coach. “I’m. Fine.” He bit off the words in a warning tone that Victor blithely ignored.

 

“Of course, you are, Yura!” he sing-songed, snagging his protégé’s elbow in a deceptively casual grip. He marched the younger man away from the crowds of media and athletes and staff, finding a quiet corner of an out-of-the-way hallway.

 

“Jesus, fuck, old-man, I’m not a child! You can’t just drag me…”

 

“Stop. Yura, please stop. Something is wrong and it’s affecting your concentration,” Victor hissed. “It’s my job as your coach and my duty as your _friend_ to try to do something about it,” he continued, stressing ‘friend’ as much as he could, trying to get through the stubborn young man’s head. “You looked like you were half-asleep during the on-ice warm ups. This is what we’ve been working towards together for the last two years, tell me what it’s going to take to get your _head_ in the _game_!”

 

Yuri blinked at him, startled by the coach’s vehement tone. “I… it’s… Katsudon…” he stammered.

 

Victor reared back in surprise. “Yuuri? Did something happen between you two?” he asked, worried.

 

The young blond shook his head. “No, shit, not me. Him and the hamster freak.”

 

That… was surprising. Phichit might tease Yuuri, but they almost never got into any true disagreements. _Well,_ he thought, _except for Phichit’s little plot last season._ Not that Victor held any ill-will towards the Thai skater for his well-intentioned scheming. He’d never be truly upset with anything that had such spectacular end results.

 

Still…

 

“Yuuri and Phichit… fought?” he asked slowly. Yuri only shrugged in response, a frustrating non-answer that Victor had grown used to over the years.

 

“Okay,” he breathed. “We’ll deal with that bridge when we need to cross it. What do I need to do to get _you_ ready to skate?” Yuri looked bemusedly at him, clearly not expecting Victor’s focus. “ _You_ are my skater, Yura. Yuuri is my husband and he and I will handle whatever we need to handle _after_ the short program. Celestino and Natalie are there to help him skate his best. I am here to help _you_. So?” He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow at his feisty student.

 

Yuri eyed him pensively for a long moment. “If you had to pick between falling on a quad or landing a clean triple, what would _you_ have done?”

 

Victor felt a little nonplussed at the question. “Ah… well, the technical points for a fully rotated quad are higher, even with a fall. But you risk losing points in the PCS for interrupting the flow of the program.” He pursed his lips, considering. “Also, you increase the risk of injury when you fall, so that’s certainly a negative,” he finished, a slightly wry tinge of self-deprecation twisting his tone. Then he paused as the realization hit. “Ah. Yura… skate the way you want. Don’t let what Phichit may or may not do affect you.”

 

***

 

_“An absolutely phenomenal performance from Russia’s Yuri Plisetsky! I have a feeling he may have knocked his rinkmate out of first place with that near flawless routine!”_

 

_“I’d have to agree with you Chris, although I’m sure many in the crowd are disappointed that he chose to stick with his declared jumps instead of attempting the quadruple flip he nearly landed at the World Championships in Stockholm last March. Still, he’ll be hard to pass after a performance of that quality!”_

 

_“Plisetsky may have played it safe today, but I doubt anyone could deny that he just gave a he** of a show. Ah. Sorry. Quite a show. Still, with Yuuri Katsuki, Otabek Altin, Phichit Chulanont and Jean-Jacques Leroy yet to skate, there’s still time to spice up the final short program results. Stay tuned to NBC Sports as the fourth flight of skaters takes the ice for their warm-ups.”_

 

***

 

Yuuri stood rinkside, the crowd a muffled roar in his ears. Tipping his head back to take one last sip of water before he took the ice, he caught Victor and Yuri standing just inside the door that led into the competitor’s holding area. Victor dropped a kiss onto his ring when he saw that Yuuri was watching and the Japanese skater mimicked the action before turning his focus back towards Natalie and Celestino.

 

“Is your head in the right place, Yuuri?” Ciao Ciao asked, waggling a thick brow in concern. “You seemed a little distracted during warm-ups.”

 

He handed off the water bottle, shaking out his arms as he shrugged. “Just worried about Peach, I guess,” he admitted, pausing to listen for a second as Guang Hong’s scores were announced.

 

Natalie tweaked his nose, forcing him to focus on his cheerful assistant coach. “Hey, Yuu, focus on yourself for today, huh? Let ‘Tino and I worry about Phichit, okay? Today’s a big day. Don’t lose sight of who it is you’re skating for.”

 

Yuuri blinked in surprise as Natalie’s words reminded him vividly of his own thoughts during a long-ago competition. He shook himself, accepting quick hugs from his coaches as he was summoned to center ice. He greeted the roaring crowd and then stilled, pausing for a long beat as his music began.

 

_Who was he skating for?_

 

He let the sound of the cheering fans drive his opening sequence forward, let it guide him into his opening quad toe-triple toe combination. A bit of a wobble, but he knew they’d forgive him. Knew one mistake couldn’t destroy their love.

 

_He was skating for them._

 

Arching his back as he glided his way into a Biellmann spin, he silently thanked Minako for the years of training that had kept him so flexible for so long.

 

_He was skating for her._

 

The quad salchow he’d learned from Yuri, the provocative sway of hips that he’d picked up from Chris somehow, the fierce performance ready grin Phichit had taught him. Phichit who had his own path to choose, his own journey to make…

 

_He was skating for them._

 

As he flew across the ice, he thought of the sacrifices his family had made so long ago, pouring out so much time and love and money so that an unproven little boy could pursue a dream he had only the tiniest hope of achieving.

 

_He was skating here for them. Because of them._

 

His final jump was clean, the quad flip that had once been Victor’s signature, now made into something new, something his _own._ Victor who had changed his world, who had made mistakes and had struggled to fix them. Victor who loved him, so fiercely, so well.

 

_He skated for him._

 

He came to a jarring halt as the music ended, raising his arms in joyful glory as the applause and screams drowned out his heartbeats. Happy tears streamed down his face as he bowed, taking it all in, knowing he only had one more moment like this to experience. He let the love of this sport, of the ice, of the music fill him and he knew.

 

_He skated for himself._

 

 _And for once,_ he _was enough._

 

***

 

_“Well, Christophe, it’s been an incredible day here in Beijing as the Men’s Short Program reaches its thrilling conclusion.”_

 

_“Indeed Hisashi. As always, there are surprises, and we’ve had a few of them this afternoon! On the sadder end of the spectrum, Michele Crispino had a disastrous performance which has resulted in him missing the cut for tomorrow’s free skate.”_

 

_“Hmmm, yes, a hard blow for Italy’s top skater. At 28, he’s unlikely to return for another bid in 2026. Still, we wish him the best and hope to see him in a few days when his twin sister takes the ice. In happier news, Russia’s up-and-coming sweetheart Alexei Ivanov put down a strong performance, landing in 5 th place.”_

 

_“Yes, excellent placement for young Ivanov going into the free skate. Coach Nikiforov has to be absolutely thrilled right now, as top men’s skater, Yuri Plisetsky, put down a flawless program that puts him in first place today.”_

 

_“True Chris, but nipping at Plisetsky’s heels after his own very solid skate is Japan’s Ace and Nikiforov’s husband, Yuuri Katsuki. Less than half a point separates these two titans of the ice. They’ll enter the free skate neck and neck once more.”_

 

_“Rounding out the top bracket, Otabek Altin is in third, Canada’s Jean-Jacques Leroy in fourth, and Thailand’s darling Phichit Chulanont has just squeaked into sixth after a clean but safe routine.”_

 

_“Nixing his quads was probably for the best following his injury prior to the Grand Prix Finals. We’ll have to wait for tomorrow’s performances to see if Chulanont’s strategy will pay off.”_

 

 _“_ Oui. _But for now, this is Christophe Giacometti and Hisashi Morooka for NBC sports in conjunction with TV Asahi, signing off. We’ll see you tomorrow for the exciting conclusion to the Men’s Singles competition here at the Beijing Olympics!”_

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhhh, I'm so sorry! I meant to have this done like two weeks ago and then a million things happened and I just could not seem to put words down. I finally got back into the groove a few nights ago, so hopefully the final chapter won't be such a wait!
> 
> I do hope you like this one, once the Muse returned, I ended up completely rescripting a major plot point for this chapter and I'm really happy with how it turned out. It was another one of those "why am I doing this?" moments and I think the change is a real improvement. 
> 
> As of the last chapter, P&P is the longest piece of writing I have ever produced, so that's a hella cool milestone! This chapter is also the longest one so far, so enjoy the bonus story bits!
> 
> Up next:  
> Decisions are made.  
> The Free Skate.  
> The End.
> 
> Thank you all so much for coming with me on this journey. If you haven't, please check out some of my other stories. I'm also in the midst of two Bang projects and a solo project, so there's more stories to come!
> 
> Love you all!


	25. History Made

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow. If you count Once and Future Kings, it's only been a 15 month journey for these silly boys. This chapter took a long time to get out, mostly because it was really hard for me to say goodbye to this fic. As an apology, here's nearly 7k of finale sequence.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Evening, February 18th, 2022, Beijing**

 

Yuuri glanced up as he heard the click of the door, quickly rinsing his face before reaching for a towel. As he made his way back into the main room, he smiled fondly at the sight of his husband sprawled across the double bed.

 

“Long day?” he murmured quietly, dropping down to join the Russian coach, who moved automatically to place his head in Yuuri’s lap.

 

“ _Nnnng_ , Yuuuri,” Victor whined. “I’m so tired of _people!”_

 

Yuuri chuckled, running his hands through the impossibly fine silver strands. “I know, love. But that’s the Olympics. I finally had to convince Celestino to order me and Phichit to our rooms to rest. Sometimes the media really don’t know when to stop.”

 

Victor cuddled closer, pouting. “I had to do the same thing for Yura, only to turn around and realize they’d cornered poor Alyosha. Then they wanted to interview me about PyeongChang. _Gosha_ actually stepped in and pretended that I was needed elsewhere, or I don’t think I’d _ever_ have gotten away!”

 

Yuuri smiled down at his dramatic spouse, hunching over to press a kiss against the man’s forehead. “Sorry, love. Price of being Russia’s Living Legend, I’m afraid!”

 

“But Yuuuuri! I’m not even skating!” Victor groused. The Russian finally sat up, frowning. “ _Dermo_. I’m being selfish. Have you eaten? We should eat, Yuuu~ri!” he chirped, raining kisses against the Japanese skater’s neck.

 

Yuuri reigned in his giggles. “Vitya! Stop, that tickles! And no, I haven’t eaten yet. I was hoping we could get something together. Do you need to do anything else tonight?”

 

Victor shook his head. “No. Gosha’s handling any last-minute prep for tomorrow. I’m all yours, _solnyshko_ ,” he purred with an exaggerated waggle of his pale brows.

 

Yuuri stood, laughing when Victor pouted at his sudden departure from the bed. “Sorry darling, you’ll have to settle for food. I _do_ have to skate tomorrow,” he said over his shoulder as he put on his sneakers. “But Guang Hong suggested this little place not far from the Village if you can bring yourself to move off my bed?” he added teasingly.

 

His husband heaved a deep sigh before dragging himself off the bed, pulling his suit jacket and tie off as he rummaged in Yuuri’s closet, emerging triumphantly with one of his own cardigans. “I had a feeling you’d kidnapped this,” he teased, throwing it on as he joined Yuuri at the door. “Lead the way, my love.”

 

Yuuri snagged his hand, pulling him out into the hallway. He waved cheerfully at the handful of Japanese athletes lingering in the lounge as they exited, thankful to escape the building without garnering too much attention. They made their way peacefully through the Village, then to the small restaurant; it was crowded, but pleasantly free of cameras.

 

Once seated, both men slumped gratefully in the booth, happily accepting the pot of tea that was placed before them.

 

Yuuri heaved a deep breath, relaxing in the casual atmosphere. “So… Yura and Alyosha, they’re good?”

 

“They are. Lots of media requests, of course. Yura’s off hiding with Otabek somewhere and I’ve got Katya riding herd on Alyosha to make sure he gets food and sleep. He’s got a good shot at staying in the top ten as long as he doesn’t panic tomorrow.”

 

Yuuri nodded, thoughtful. “He’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’ll be giving Yura a run for his money in a year or two.”

 

The Russian coach hummed in agreement. “ _Da._ It’ll be good for Yura, I think. He’ll need it after…” he paused, biting his lip.

 

“After I retire,” Yuuri finished.

 

The men settled into a quiet lull as the server came to take their orders, only continuing once she had bustled off.

 

“It’ll be a different scene after this Olympics,” Yuuri finally continued, Victor nodding in agreement.

 

“You, Phichit, Crispino…”

 

“Leo and JJ, too,” Yuuri added softly. “Probably Seung-gil, although it’s anybody’s guess when it comes to him. I think Otabek’ll stick it out for another few years, and Guang Hong and Kenjirou have another round in them, but Yura’s going to dominate for a while, I think, unless Alyosha and some of the younger crowd can challenge him.”

 

Victor frowned in thought as their food was placed before them. “That’s a lonely place to be,” he mused.

 

Yuuri smiled softly. “I know. _You_ know. But…at least Yura has friends who have been there. We’ll get him through it. And you’ll make sure that Alyosha’s there to keep him company.”

 

Victor grinned back at him, reaching across the table to cup Yuuri’s cheek. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you…but you were beautiful out there, my darling.”

 

Yuuri felt a blush rising to meet Victor’s hand and he turned into the embrace, nuzzling against the caressing fingers. “Wasn’t enough to beat your skater,” he murmured.

 

“No,” Victor hummed teasingly. “I suppose you’ll just have to step up your game, Katsuki.”

 

“Oh, don’t worry, Nikiforov,” Yuuri replied, feeling something warm settle low in his gut. “I’ll show the world my love, one last time.”

 

 

**Morning, February 19th, 2022, Beijing**

 

Victor groaned as his alarm went off, followed, infuriatingly, by his ringtone. Snagging his phone from the night stand, he glared at the screen before clicking accept.

 

“Why do you hate me?”

 

An overly cheerful chuckle sounded over the line. “Now, _mon ami_ , is that any way to greet your dearest friend?”

 

“I am seriously reconsidering the term _friendship_ right now, Chris,” Victor muttered as he reluctantly pulled himself out of the comfortable but woefully empty bed. The Russian and Japanese contingents were housed separately, a fact that hadn’t really deterred him from spending time with his husband, but last night they’d ruefully agreed that staying in their assigned quarters was for the best.

 

“A bit touchy this morning, are we, Coach Victor?” Chris chuckled. “A shame, I was hoping to snag you for breakfast before you have to head to the rink.”

 

Victor glared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, suddenly suspicious. “As a friend or as NBC’S favorite rinkside commentator?”

 

A gasp sounded in his ear. “Darling, would I _ever_ abuse my friendship with you for a scoop?”

 

Victor smirked. “Abso-fucking-lutely. I know you too well, Giacometti.”

 

“Meet you in your lobby in 20?”

 

Victor sighed. “30. I’m not a _savage,_ Chris, let me get cleaned up.”

 

 

***

 

45 minutes later, Victor nudged Christophe with an ungentle elbow, Gucci sunglasses firmly perched on his nose. The Swiss commentator raised an eyebrow at his friend. “Your concept of 30 minutes is a bit different than mine, love.”

 

Victor shrugged. “You’re the one that dragged me out at this ungodly hour. Deal.”

 

Chris chuckled. “I know for a fact that you’re a morning person, Nikiforov, which means you’re just taking your nerves out on me. Sooooo…” he crooned, leaning in. “Who, exactly are you nervous _for_ , hmmm?”

 

Victor pulled down his shades long enough to roll his eyes. “Enough. I’m not here to provide a sound-bite. Lead me to caffeine and carbs or I’m going to go track down someone who _will._ ”

 

“Ah. Sorry, _cher_. You know I won’t share anything you don’t want discussed on air. I was merely teasing you.”

 

The silver-blond sighed. “I know, sorry, I’m just wound up. Big day.”

 

Chris hummed in agreement. “It is,” the tall ex-skater murmured, causing Victor to eye him speculatively.

 

Silence held as they queued to order their coffee and pastries, broken only when they finally moved to take a seat at one of the small bistro tables huddled against a wide window.

 

“Okay, spill. What is this really about, Christophe?”

 

Chris sighed, stirring his coffee pensively. “Men’s Olympic Freeskate. Kind of a big deal, hm?”

 

Victor waited, knowing his friend would eventually get to his point.

 

“The, ah, the last one… didn’t really end so well for you.”

 

Victor grimaced. “Chris, that’s ancient history. I’m not skating here, I’m not part of this story anymore. I’m just a coach.”

 

Christophe set his coffee down, his hazel eyes searching as he hesitated. “Is that what you honestly believe, Vitya? Because, I think you’re very much part of this narrative. Coach to one hopeful and husband to another… I think PyeongChang is on a lot of minds today.”

 

Running his hands through his silver strands, Victor took a moment to regret ever having picked up his phone that morning. “Say what you _mean_ , dammit, I don’t have time for these games right now, Chris.”

 

Chris leaned forward, snagging his free hand in an earnest grip. “You have two, no _three_ , skaters counting on you today. Students. Spouse. No matter what happens, they need to know that you’re there for them. No matter what they place. You spent a lot of time beating yourself up over what happened in PyeongChang. If Plisetsky falls, if Alyosha pops a jump… if _Yuuri_ busts his ankle, you need to be okay with it. You need to make sure they know that you’re proud of them, no matter what.” His voice was strangely intense, his grip tight.

 

“Chris… I…”

 

“Don’t let them— _any_ of them—leave Beijing with regrets. And that goes for you, too, Coach. Give them your best, so that you can leave _this_ Olympics with better memories than the last, hm?”

 

Victor felt his throat close, overwhelmed at his friend’s words. “I… I won’t. I won’t let them down… I… I won’t let myself down this time.”

 

Chris nodded, satisfied, before releasing Victor’s hand to pick up his drink. “Good,” he purred nonchalantly. “Mas and I are going to need you and Yuuri at your best to plan our bachelor parties, you know. I do believe you owe me after Barcelona.”

 

***

 

Yuuri tried to focus on his official run-through, downgrading his jumps just enough to still get a good feel for the movement and the ice. On the edges of the rink, avoiding his path, were the other skaters who had made it into the final flight, awaiting their own chance for full run-throughs. Yura and Otabek, JJ and Alexei and Phichit… he knew them all, had known them all for years. _One last chance to skate with them all_ , he thought to himself. He finished his final spin, pulling out of it with barely strained breaths as he shook the tension from his arms.

 

He skated to the side of the rink with long strides, gratefully accepting the towel and water bottle that Natalie passed over to him. Across the ice, he could see Phichit talking earnestly with Celestino as JJ took the opening pose for his run-through.

 

“You looked pretty clean out there, but how did it feel?” his assistant coach asked, and he dragged his attention back to her.

 

“Oh, uh. Good. It felt good.” His eyes strayed back towards his best friend and their head coach.

 

“You two still haven’t talked?” Natalie murmured, her tone surprised.

 

Yuuri shrugged. “I don’t want to push. We both have to focus today; we’ll figure this stuff out eventually,” he said, feigning confidence he wasn’t sure he felt. Emotions were always intense at the Olympics, the pressure of representing your country on such an enormous stage often heightening any conflicts between athletes. He knew Phichit was feeling the pressure more than most; Thailand didn’t have the history of success at the Winter Olympics that Japan, Russia or other countries did.

 

Phichit wasn’t just his country’s best hope. Until other athletes in Thailand were able to match his level, Phichit was his country’s _only_ hope. This close to retirement, Yuuri supposed it made sense that his friend would be willing to risk injury for the sake of glory.

 

Yuuri glanced over to where Celestino was still speaking with him, smiling a bit when he finally caught Phichit’s eyes. The Thai skater nodded at him, a trace of his normal cheerfulness crossing his face before his name was called for his run-through.

 

Celestino moved over to stand beside Natalie, watching thoughtfully as the skater took to the ice. He spared a moment to glance at Yuuri from under his heavy brows. “You still have 15 minutes of rink time. You should be practicing, not watching Phichit.”

 

Yuuri hastily handed the towel and bottle back to Natalie before hurrying to catch up to where Yuri was practicing footwork on the far side of the rink.

 

“Wondered if you were going to bother practicing after your run-through,” Yuri said, sneering half-heartedly in Yuuri’s direction. “Figured you might want to give your ancient bones a rest.”

 

“You wish, _Yurio_ ,” the Japanese skater teased back in a similar tone, earning another snarl from the young Russian.

 

“Do you _want_ me to cut you with my knife boots, Katsudon? Because that is how you get cut with my knife boots.”

 

Yuuri laughed as he moved into a short footwork sequence. “You’re all talk, Yura,” he called as the Russian was summoned for his run-through.

 

“You two seem to be in high spirits,” a wry voice said from behind him. He turned as Phichit skated over, still flushed from his free skate practice. His steely grey eyes were fixed on Yuri’s twirling form as the Russian skater began his formal practice. “Not that it looks like either of you have any reason to be stressed. You looked good out there, Yuu.” Phichit’s teeth flashed in a tight grin.

 

“Peach…”

 

“It’s fine. Just ask.”

 

Yuuri sighed. “Okay. How’s your ankle?”

 

Phichit nodded calmly, clearly unsurprised. “It’s fine. Saw the trainers after skating yesterday, no issues.”

 

Yuuri flushed guiltily. “So, you could have done your quads in the short.”

 

The Thai skater skated in a lazy circle, his face thoughtful. “Maybe, maybe not. I could have done them and fallen, and then I wouldn’t be in the top six at all. I could have done them and been in 3rd or 4th instead of 6th.” He spun to a halt. “But at the end of the day, it was my decision. I chose not to go for the quads yesterday. But, Yuuri, if I’d done them, if I fell? That wouldn’t have been on you. You know that, right?”

 

Yuuri blinked in surprise. “Wait, what? Peach, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

 

Phichit glanced over to where Celestino could be seen gesturing at them with broad circular motions. “C’mon, cool down laps. Skate with me for a bit?” Yuuri murmured his assent. They’d made their way halfway around the rink before Phichit spoke again. “Sometimes, you take on problems that aren’t really your own.” Yuuri opened his mouth to protest, but Phichit hastened to continue. “It’s not always a bad thing. You’re a good friend. You _care_. That’s awesome.”

 

“I’m sensing a ‘ _but’_ here,” Yuuri interjected dryly.

 

Phichit laughed. “ _But_ sometimes things just happen, Yuuri. It’s not always anybody’s fault. And you can’t always _fix_ it. Sometimes you have to step back and let people fall.”

 

Yuuri flinched at his friend’s words.

 

Phichit hummed at his side. “Yeah, that’s kind of what I thought. Yuuri, I’m not Victor. This isn’t PyeongChang.”

 

He shifted, pulling to an abrupt stop, startling the other skater. “What? Phichit, I _know_! I was just worried!”

 

The younger man raised an eloquent eyebrow. “Yeah, Katsudamn. I _know._  And I appreciate the love, I really do. But… Yuu… things didn’t go so hot for you the last time someone you loved got injured. So, look me in the eye and tell me PyeongChang hasn’t been running through your mind lately.”

 

Yuuri bit his lip.

 

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. C’mon Katsuki. Head in the game. I’m not the one you need to be talking to…”

 

***

 

Victor frowned at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, trying to decide if he should add one last touch of concealer under his eyes. He wasn’t ashamed to admit to his vanity. He _knew_ he looked good for 34, but it never hurt to look a little bit _better_ . There would be a lot of eyes on him today: cameras, fans, competitors, coaches, _Yuuri…_

 

He reached for the little pot, stopping when he heard the knock. Frowning once more at the mirror, he made his way over to the door and pulled it open. To his surprise, Yuuri stood with Natalie, Alexei, Yura and Georgi in the hallway.

 

“Ah, quite the committee,” he said with a broad smile.

 

“It was Yuuri’s idea!” Alexei chirped, bouncing on his toes in a mix of nerves and enthusiasm. “To show the ‘spirit of the Olympics with international comradery’!”

 

“Never mind that this is literally just the St. Petersburg based skaters and coaches,” Yura said, rolling his eyes.

 

Yuuri rolled his right back. “Phichit and Celestino are meeting us outside,” he pointed out before smiling softly up at Victor. “You almost ready, Vitya?”

 

Victor smiled back at him before turning back into the room. “Let me just grab my pass and my bag and I’m all set.” He made quick work of the task, completely forgetting about the concealer in his haste to rejoin the group. He bumped shoulders with his husband as they made their way out of the building, drawing a grin from the smaller man. “The ‘spirit of the Olympics’?” he murmured teasingly.

 

“Oh, shut up, maybe I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand on the way to the arena, smartass,” Yuuri said back, arching a carefully gelled brow before leaning up to press a quick kiss to Victor’s waiting lips.

 

“Get a room!” Phichit hooted as he and Celestino joined them.

 

“That’s for _after_ the medal ceremony,” Yuuri replied primly, drawing laughs from the majority of the small crowd.

 

“I fucking hate _all_ of you,” Yura muttered, gagging theatrically until Phichit threw an arm about him, drawing the young Russian’s baleful glare. “Especially you, Hamster Boy.”

 

“Suuuuure, Kitten. All talk,” Phichit replied blithely.

 

Victor laughed, then glanced down at his husband appraisingly. “You all seem in high spirits today,” he commented.

 

“Mmmmm. It’s the free skate. We’re all riding the competition high, I think.”

 

Victor jutted his chin towards where Phichit was still harassing Yura. “Looks like things with Phichit were smoothed out?”

 

Yuuri nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, he…we talked. I realized I was sort of…projecting. But he reminded me that at the end of the day, each of us is responsible for our own performance, our own path. I think… I needed to remind myself of that.”

 

Victor pulled his husband to a stop, letting the rest of the group get ahead of them. “ _Solnyshko?”_ he hummed in question, his brow furrowed in worry. Yuuri leaned up on his tiptoes, kissing at the wrinkle.

 

“I forgave you a long time ago, Vitya. For everything that happened after PyeongChang. But… I don’t think I ever forgave _myself._ Stopped _blaming_ myself for you falling.”

 

“Yuuri, that was an accident, it could have happened to anyone!” Victor blurted, shocked.

 

“I know! I do know that, now. Just took me a while to really let it sink in, I think. But I’m good now. We’re good and we’re here and…and I’m ready. Ready for one last time.”

 

Victor shook his head, a bit bemused. “One last gold medal?”

 

Yuuri grinned. “One last time to _skate_.”

 

***

 

_“Good evening everyone, this is Christophe Giacometti alongside Hisashi Morooka coming to you live from the Capital Indoor Stadium in Beijing where the first of 24 men’s figure skaters will soon take to the ice to present their free skate! There’s a lot of truly fabulous skaters here today, all of whom will be giving it their all in a bid for Olympic glory! Of course, at the end of the day, only three of these lovely gentlemen can walk away with medals.”_

 

_“That’s correct, Christophe! And this, of course, is the big question of the day. Who will stand on that podium in a few hours?”_

 

_“You have to be hoping for one more gold out of Yuuri Katsuki, Hisashi.”_

 

_“Well, I’d be lying if I said otherwise. But Japan walked away with the team gold, so Katsuki’s already done well for his home country. And of course, there are a lot of strong contenders this year, so there’s no such thing as a sure bet right now. Russia is looking particularly strong: both Plisetsky and Ivanov are sitting in the top ten heading into this free skate and you have to think that Yuri Plisetsky is hungry to improve on his silver in PyeongChang.”_

 

_“Mmm, true, and it’s been more than a year since Plisetsky’s managed to knock Katsuki from the top of the podium. Perhaps it’s finally his time in the battle of the Yuris!”_

 

_“Haha, yes, Chris, perhaps. Beyond Russia and Japan, Otabek Altin and Phichit Chulanont are their respective countries’ best hopes for a medal at this Games and tonight is their shot. Both men are within medal contention, so it’s going to be quite the show! Canada, South Korea and the United States all have horses in this race as well, so buckle up.”_

 

_“Buckle up indeed! And we’re heading to the ice now as the first flight of skaters finishes their warm up. Stick with us here on NBCSports for live coverage!”_

 

_***_

 

Their group was stopped several times on their way into the stadium, fans and media alike clamoring for the attention of so many high-profile skaters. Otabek had joined them along the way, so the only top flight skater missing was JJ Leroy and people couldn’t seem to resist the resulting photo op.

 

“Alright, we need to get these boys inside to warm up!” Celestino boomed out, drawing a chorus of disappointed ‘awwws’ from the crowd.

 

Yuuri fluttered a tiny wave in the direction of the fans, then allowed himself to be steered away alongside Phichit, Celestino’s large hand warm on his back. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Victor wrapping his arm around Alexei, head tilted down as he murmured into the boy’s ear. Looking up, the Russian coach caught Yuuri watching and winked before returning to his conversation with the teenaged skater.

 

“I want you two to focus on light, easy stretches for a bit. Stay loose but don’t push yourselves. The first flight is skating now, so you’ll have another hour before your 6-minute warm up,” Celestino was saying as they made their way into the backstage area reserved for competitors and their teams. A few of the other skaters waved as they entered and Yuuri took a moment to look around the room. Leo smiled from where he was stretching near Guang Hong, Seung-gil looked as stoic as ever as he nodded along to something his coach was telling him, Emil looked strangely lonely without Michele beside him.

 

“Hey, you’re looking kinda sad there, Katsudamn. Everything cool?” Phichit’s voice drew his attention away from the dazed reverie he’d fallen into. Judging by the Thai skater’s tiny smile, Yuuri had a feeling his friend knew where his mind had gone.

 

“I think it’s just kind of hitting me, is all,” Yuuri admitted. “That this is it. This is the last time.”

 

“Please. Last time competing, maybe, but you’ll be doing ice shows and guest appearances for as long as you’re willing and able. You’ll have plenty of opportunities to hang out in a warm-up room. You can start with _my_ show, of course. I’m invoking best friend privileges,” Phichit finished, his tone light and teasing.

 

Yuuri bumped his hip lightly against his friend’s. “You already know I’m there,” he replied, smiling as he bent down in a deep stretch.

 

“10 points,” he heard Phichit mutter. He glanced up from his stretch, eyebrow raised in question.

 

Phichit’s gaze was fixed on Otabek, who was deep in conversation with Yuri and Alexei across the room. Otabek, who was sitting in third place, 10 points ahead of Phichit.

 

“The free skate is where it really counts,” Yuuri said quietly.

 

Phichit’s eyes glowed before he finally bent to start his stretches. “Oh, trust me, I know.”

 

***

_“Welcome back to NBCSports’ ongoing coverage of the 24th Winter Olympic Games! If you’re just joining us, well, shame on you, but I’m Christophe Giacometti here with my good friend Hisashi Morooka to bring you all the behind the scenes details of today’s men’s free skate!”_

 

_“And what a day it has been, Chris! We’ve paused to resurface the ice before our final six skaters take the stage but you cannot deny that we have seen some truly impressive performances from our competitors. I would, of course, be remiss if I didn’t start with Japan’s own Minami Kenjirou who, of course, has already earned his country’s gratitude for his part in the Team gold last week. Today’s performance proved that he is really stepping up to the plate to continue Japan’s tradition of excellence on the ice. He’s currently in first after pulling off a stunning free skate.”_

 

_“Indeed. He has to be thrilled at ratifying that quad salchow. I know it’s been a point of pride for him to get another quad under his belt. And, of course, it’s hard not to compare Minami to Yuuri Katsuki, who was nearly the same age when he began his own meteoric rise.”_

 

_“Very true, Chris. All of Japan wishes good fortune to our rising star! I do feel as if we should discuss Emil Nekola’s stellar performance as well, this was a personal best for him and you have to wonder if long time friend Michele Crispino’s presence in the audience had anything to do with it.”_

 

 _“Hmm, perhaps, Hisashi, perhaps. It can be easy to forget that many skaters forge lasting relationships off the ice despite their competitiveness_ on _the ice. It had to be hard for Crispino to be here today after missing the cut, so it was especially good of him to come out to support his friend. And speaking of friends, this last flight should be interesting. We’re looking at a group of men with a_ lot _of personal connections. All six of our final skaters have trained in either Detroit, St. Petersburg or both. Most of them are personal friends. You have to imagine that there’s a lot of mixed feelings getting ready to be poured out on that ice!”_

 

_“True. Each of them wants to win, but it must be hard to reconcile your own success with a friend’s misfortune.”_

 

_“Indeed. Well, looks like they’re ready to let the final flight out on the ice for their 6-minute warm up. We’ll take a brief break and then we’ll be back for the exciting conclusion!”_

 

_***_

 

He’d never been Jimmy John’s biggest fan, but Victor found himself strangely grateful for the Canadian skater’s show of solidarity as the final group of skaters shook hands and exchanged well wishes after the warm up ended. It must have been a bit strange to be the odd man out in a group that was so friendly.

 

Glancing over to where Yuri was bristling at something Phichit had just said, Victor sighed before amending his thought.

 

_Friendly-ish, anyways._

 

He didn’t miss the way Yuuri held Phichit tight before the Thai skater was called back onto the ice. Nor did he miss the fact that Yuuri stayed rinkside, hovering behind Celestino and Natalie. He moved to lead Alexei and Yura back to the waiting area, pausing briefly to squeeze his husband’s shoulder and earning a nervous smile in return.

 

Once backstage, he was pleased to see both of his skaters already moving into their final warm up routines, Alexei’s lips moving as he listened to his headphones and Yura bent nearly in half as he worked to keep his muscles loose.

 

Victor couldn’t help watching the large flat screen set up in the corner of the room as Phichit moved into his starting position. The Thai skater had been in Yuuri’s life long before Victor crashed into it and, as such, had long since become a part of Victor’s life as well. And true, he wanted his own skaters to do well. Wanted _Yuuri_ to do well, but...Phichit was a fighter, even if he hid it behind easy smiles and laughter.

 

And Victor respected the hell out him for it.

 

Because right now? Phichit Chulanont was showing the entire world exactly why he had carried Thailand’s flag.

 

“Shit,” came a soft swear as Phichit turned his planned quad loop into a combination. “He’s fucking leaving it all out on the ice, isn’t he?” Victor turned to look over at his student...his _friend._

 

“Yeah,” he replied, voice equally soft. “He really is.”

 

***

 

Yuuri nearly tackled his best friend as he came off the ice, torn between laughter and ecstatic tears. “Brilliant! Amazing! Absolutely stunning!” Yuuri crowed.

 

Phichit beamed at him, tears brimming in his dark eyes. “Yeah, that was kinda fucking awesome, huh?” was all he had time to choke out before the officials were summoning him into the kiss and cry to join Celestino.

 

Phichit pulled out a personal best, rocketing him to the top of the rankings with nearly 20 points to spare between him and Minami Kenjirou. Yuuri watched, heart too full for words as his friend greeted the crowd, his trademark cheer firmly back in place.

 

“Hey, hon. We need to get you warmed up, now. You can catch up with Phichit later,” Natalie finally pointed out, nudging him back towards the warm-up area. He followed along reluctantly, smiling as they passed Victor and Alexei heading towards the ice.

 

“Davai!” he called softly to the teen, something warm and content filling his chest as both skater and coach beamed happily in his direction. As he entered the skaters’ holding room, he nodded in JJ’s direction before moving to join Yura and Otabek in the corner where they were chatting while stretching.

 

“Fucking Chulanont,” Yura said in greeting, drawing a chuckle from Yuuri.

 

“Yeah, he kind of drew a line in the sand out there, hm?” he replied, rolling out one of the yoga mats to begin his own stretches.

 

“You are entirely too happy about that. 308’s nothing to sneeze at,” Yura huffed.

 

“Both of your base scores can still easily beat him,” Otabek pointed out calmly, brow furrowed. “My chances are a little weaker, but all I can do is my best.”

 

“Anybody can fall,” Yuuri murmured quietly, drawing concerned glances from the other skaters.  

 

“Guess we’d better not fall, then,” Yura replied, equally quiet as he reached over to squeeze Yuuri’s shoulder briefly. Yuuri looked up at him in surprise. “Not a word, Katsudon. Not a fucking word,” the Russian muttured with a grimace, hiding his burning face against his thigh as he bent into a deep stretch.

 

Yuuri shared a conspiratorial grin with Otabek, feeling lighter.

 

Onscreen, Alexei moved into second place as JJ prepared to take the ice.

 

***

 

“Phichit asked me to pass on a message,” Celestino murmured as he accepted Yuuri’s blade guards.

 

“Oh? What’s that?” he replied with a grin. He couldn’t help the bubbly happiness that seemed to simmer under his skin. With only himself and Yura left to skate, Phichit still sat in first place, narrowly beating Otabek’s scores. No matter the outcome, his best friend would walk away from Beijing with Thailand’s first Winter Olympics medal.

 

“Don’t go easy on him.”

 

Yuuri laughed as he took the ice, greeting the crowd and the judges with waves and a deep bow. Centering himself, he took a deep breath.

 

This was it.

 

The moment of truth.

 

One last chance to show the world everything he had learned over the years.

 

The music started.

 

Yuuri began to dance.

 

***

 

_“Well, Hisashi, I think it’s fair to say that the final flight of skaters has truly gone above and beyond for us all today! I can’t imagine being in the judges’ shoes with so much talent and drive unfolding before us today!”_

 

_“Indeed, Chris. So far five phenomenal performances out there on the ice during this flight, with only a handful of points separating first from fifth place. Coach Cialdini looks absolutely beside himself with joy with his two top skaters once again sitting in the top positions as we gear up for our final competitor.”_

 

_“And so far the biggest story of the night is Thailand’s Phichit Chulanont sitting in second place. I think we all teared up a bit at the sight of training mates Chulanont and Katsuki greeting each other in the medalists’ holding area. Now we’re just minutes away from finding out whether Phichit’s medal will be bronze or silver. Let’s take it back to the ice now, as Russia’s reigning champion performs his free skate!”_

 

_***_

 

He’d barely had time to exchange more than a thumbs up with Katsudon before the older skater was ushered into the holding area to face the ubiquitous media gauntlet. Now he was on the ice, hovering at the boards, listening to the buzzing roar of the crowd, trying to breathe…

 

“Hey, Yura. Are you with me?”

 

Right. He was supposed to be listening to Victor. To his coach. Blinking hard, he pulled his head up. “Sorry, just…”

 

“It’s the Olympics. It’s a lot, I know,” Victor said, a strange smile quirking almost sadly over his lips. “But, at the end of the day, it’s just another competition. A big one, yes, but you’re _Yuri Plisetsky_ , Russia’s Ice Tiger. One skate, good or bad, won’t change that.”

 

Victor’s hands were a reassuring warmth on his shoulders as he spoke, and Yuri finally managed to meet his coach’s eyes. “Right,” he said, feeling suddenly lighter. “Time to go kick your husband’s ass.”

 

The older Russian laughed, “209.87. That’s all you need. You’ve beaten that a dozen times before, you can do it again.”

 

Yuri cocked his hip, looking back over his shoulder with a raised brow as he turned to head out on the ice. “You don’t mind that he’s going to lose?”

 

“Whose coach am I, Yura?”

 

“Mine,” Yuri replied, baring his teeth in a feral grin.

 

“Exactly,” Victor responded, his tone sober. Then, in a lightning quick change of mood, he winked, tapping a thoughtful finger against his chin. “I’ll just have to figure out some way to comfort him when you win. Whatever should I do?”

 

Yuri recoiled. “Gross. You two are fucking gross,” he barked as he skated away, Victor’s delighted laughter chasing him. Still, he couldn’t help the bubbly sense of joy that simmered beneath his skin as he greeted the crowd. This feeling was why he skated, was why he fought tooth and nail to be the best.

 

This was where he belonged.

 

***

 

The press scrum settled as soon as the strains of Yuri’s music drifted down the hall, the room eerily quiet as competitors and journalists alike turned to watch the final skate on the wide flat screen in the corner.

 

“Yura, _davai_ ,” Yuuri whispered, hearing it echoed on either side of him as Phichit and Otabek moved to bracket him. He took a moment to glance over at Otabek, knowing that the Kazakh skater’s hopes of medaling were fading fast.

 

“I’m not upset,” Otabek said quietly, his gaze never leaving the screen. “You two outskated me. If Yura outskates me, then that’s okay. I did my best and that’s all I can ask of myself.”

 

“That’s all any of us can do,” Phichit murmured softly.

 

All three of them cursed as Yuri stumbled on screen, his hand brushing the ice as he over-rotated his triple axel.

 

“Congratulations,” Otabek said calmly, eyes glued to the technical scores in the corner of the screen.

 

Yuuri shook his head. “Wait. It’s not over yet.”

 

***

 

Fuck.

 

_Fuckfuckfuckfuck._

 

What was it with the goddamned triple axel being the fucking Waterloo of the entire fucking Russian skating crew?

 

Gritting his teeth, he worked to regain speed, mind racing as he worked his way through the complicated footwork that he’d spent all year polishing. As it stood, he’d probably take silver. A silver at the Olympics was good. It was fucking great.

 

He could play it safe, take the silver. Come back in four years and claim the gold.

 

The problem was, it wasn’t what he _wanted_ . He didn’t want to win in four years against an unknown field. He wanted to win _today._ Against Katsudon and Hamster Boy. Against Beka.

 

If he took a risk, he could do it. He could win.

 

Or he could fall, lose any shot at a medal.

 

Fuck it.

 

_You miss all the shots you don’t take, right?_

 

He came out of the sequence blazingly fast, set himself up for the entry and, for a moment, he _flew._

 

One.

 

Two.

 

Three.

 

Four.

 

The _*krsnck*_ of a clean landing. His first clean quad flip in competition.

 

His final spin was a blur, as were his bows. Then he was on his knees, sobs wracking his chest, breath burning as his lungs desperately pulled in air. Shakily, he pushed back onto his feet and made his way back to the entrance, stopping to snag a plush kitten from the ice as he passed.

 

He all but fell into his coach’s arms, head still buzzing with shock and exhaustion as he struggled to snap his guards on. Victor held him up, a firm presence at his side as he was finally able to sit in the Kiss and Cry.

 

“Well,” Victor said thoughtfully. “I guess I’ll need to figure out how to cheer my husband up!”

 

Yuri was too tired to do more than growl half-heartedly. Still, his coach laughed, pulling him over in a side hug that Yuri didn’t bother protesting.

 

“I’m proud of you, Yura,” Victor finally said. “You earned this.”

 

***

 

The aftermath of a competition was always a whirlwind of camera flashes and sound, cheers mixing with shouted questions in a dizzying cacophony. The Olympics took that whirlwind to a new height and Yuuri struggled to steady his breathing, trying to stay in the moment, to store this memory away to savor later. He snuck a glance up at Yuri, tall and proud on the top podium, and grinned to himself. Yes, he’d have liked that medal for himself but...he glanced down fondly at his silver. It was fitting in a strange way. Ending his career the way he’d _truly_ begun it. Fighting tooth and nail for every point. Proud as hell even though it wasn’t gold around his neck.

 

Yuri glanced down at him, looking slightly dazed.

 

“How’s the view from up there?” Yuuri asked with a smile.

 

Yuri smirked back at him, then offered him a hand. “Come find out,” he replied as he pulled Yuuri up before turning to offer his other hand to Phichit. Yuri draped his arms about their shoulders, eyes sparkling with happy tears as the Russian anthem played.

 

Yuuri stole a peek at Phichit, unsurprised to find his friend sobbing quietly, eyes glued to the Thai flag, floating for the first time at a Winter Olympics. His heart felt too full for words as Yuri’s arms tightened around them.

 

Phichit, predictably, was the first one to break the silence.

 

“Secret. Soft. Kitten,” he teased.

 

“Fuck you, Hamster Boy,” Yuri snapped back, though he was missing his usual bite.

 

Yuuri just laughed.

 

***

 

“It’s not a gold medal, but…”

 

Victor snatched the silver from his husband’s hand, pressing his lips to it in an exaggerated display of gusto. It was worth hamming it up a bit to hear that delighted bubble of laughter flowing from Yuuri’s throat.

 

“Hey now, I’m starting to get a little jealous here,” Yuuri said teasingly and Victor obliged happily, transferring his attention from cold metal to warm lips.

 

They broke apart after a long moment, Yuuri gazing up at him, flushed and warm and happy.

 

“Wow, what was _that_ for?”

 

Victor brushed a lock of dark hair from his husband’s eyes. “It’s what I should have done back in Barcelona,” he replied. “God, Yuuri, you were stunning out there. You were stunning every time you skated. You always have been.”

 

“I love you,” Yuuri said, the simple words filling Victor with indescribable joy.

 

He pressed a kiss against the top of the disheveled raven hair, reveling in the peace of the moment. “Well, Yuuri Katsuki. You just won a silver medal at the Olympics. You’re retiring and going back to live with your impossibly ridiculous husband in Russia. What happens now?”

 

Yuuri looked up at him, chocolate brown eyes flashing with laughter and love. “You know what? I have no clue.”

 

Victor grinned, pulling Yuuri up for another brush of lips. “That’s just fine. We’ll figure it out.”

 

“Together,” Yuuri replied.

 

“Always.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't lie. I cried when I finished this. P&P is the culmination of a story I began around Christmas 2017, and it's terribly hard to say goodbye. Once and Future Kings was the first time I'd ever put a long form story up where other people could read it and the response completely overwhelmed me. 
> 
> My amazing readers aren't the biggest crew on AO3, but you all have been vocal and supportive and so kind from day 1. I cannot thank you enough for making my first foray into fic writing such a joy. From the bottom of my heart, thank you to each of you for your comments, for your questions, for your kudos. 
> 
> I'd like to especially thank those of you who have followed me from story to story. To CyberSkeith for the incredible [fanart](https://crimson-chains.tumblr.com/post/180017881409/commission-for-skatinggameryk-d-from-a-fanfic) and to [PeppyBismilk](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeppyBismilk/pseuds/PeppyBismilk) for stepping in to help polish this final chapter. 
> 
> And again. A thousand, thousand thank yous to all of you for sticking it out with me to the end of this journey. This isn't the end for me (nor is it really the end for our sweet boys). I'm still finishing up both my boyband and space AUs, and you'll be seeing me as part of both the YOI Reverse Bang and YOI AngstBang coming this spring/summer, as well as an archaeology AU that I swear I'll eventually post. 
> 
> And is this story really finished? Honestly? I don't know. There's a lot more story to tell here. Alyosha will be hard to let go of, and I'd love to see Natalie and Georgi's story play out someday. 
> 
> But for now, I'll take my bows.
> 
> I love you all. 
> 
> Thank you. Thank you a million times.

**Author's Note:**

> Annnnd we're back! If you didn't check it out, I posted an epilogue to Once and Future Kings yesterday that leads directly into this chapter :) 
> 
> Special thanks to Magrathea, who has signed on to be my highly valued Beta reader! 
> 
> I'm hoping to post weekly, with updates to my other Yuri!!! on Ice WIP (Reclaim the Stars, a sci-fi AU filled with lots of angst, but not between our boys!) coming as I finish them. 
> 
> Thank you as always for your support!


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